Charlie Unexpected
by celcette
Summary: Chuck Bass doesn’t want to grow up. Blair Waldorf doesn’t know how too. Enter Charlie-reason to grow up. What happens when wealthy bachelor, Chuck Bass, and multi divorcee talk show host, Blair Waldorf, are found by their illegit daughter? Chaos of course
1. Charlie Unexpected

Story: Charlie Unexpected

Author: celcette

Show: Gossip Girl

Characters: Chuck Bass, Blair Waldorf, Charlie Hall (Bass), Nate Archibald, Serena vdW Archibald, Rhyze Archibald, Riley Archibald and more to come

Genre: Drama, coming of age and romance

Summary: Chuck Bass doesn't want to grow up. Blair Waldorf doesn't know how too. Enter Charlie-the reason to grow up. What happens when wealthy bachelor, Chuck Bass, and multi divorcee talk show host, Blair Waldorf, suddenly have their daughter knocking on their door? Chaos, of course! Based on the show Life Unexpected, I bring you our very own Chuck and Blair version! See them all unfold in this tale about cutting loose ends and rebuilding

**Author's Note:**

**Finally I write a story. I haven't written one in such a long time! This story is going to be my main focus and I will work very hard to not disappoint! Please review! Hang on for the prologue that will be coming at you very very soon!**

**Please support this new story by reviewing, making it a favorite, subscribing or simply reading it and joining me on this wild rollercoaster!**


	2. Prologue

"Ladies, ladies, as entertaining as this has been I am afraid I will have to request your departure." Chuck Bass murmurs, his voice hoarse as he slides the arms of the two call girls off his bare chest. He raises his limited edition Rolex watch up to his view, reading the time. _6:57AM, I have plenty of time. _The notorious hotel mogul realizes. He drops his arms back to the both ends of the four-poster bed. Chuck could feel the burning gazes of the two girls, secretly craving for more than just a one night stand.

In fact, if Chuck was proud enough to say it… Actually, he is. He would have to admit that between the two ends of the stick it is quite palpable that _he _should be paid to screw them over. He bites back a smirk, a smirk that he has perfected over the years.

"Cash on the table. You can see yourselves out." He shuts his eyelids. He can feel them gaping at each other. They then begin to move around Chuck's private suite in the Empire Hotel, his first and most successful business venture up to date.

_What did they look like again?_ Chuck couldn't help but wonder. These girls, they didn't have faces to him. They did not have any meaning, simply girls he pays to fulfill his _needs_. Chuck honestly couldn't picture what either woman looked like. One would think that he would be smart enough to open his eyes and take a look, but Chuck Bass was not one to waste his time on pointless things.

"Mister Chuck," Comes the high-pitch voice of one of the women he had so conveniently chosen.

"Yes?" The high-profile entrepreneur was aware of just how impatient he sounds. _Too bad I don't really care_.

"Give us a call if you would ever want to… Revisit this little… _Activity_… Of ours." Answers the same high-pitch voice.

"If you want sex, just act for it." He deadpans. Both call girls don't know how to react. So they do what they've been trained to; Keep their mouths shut and their actions outside the bed minimal. After five or so minutes they retreated the suite, with more money than they would've gotten in a week.

Chuck Bass knew he caused a riot amongst his allies and competitors. On one end he was naturally gifted in the art of business. Skilled with that likeable quality and charm that made the girls whimper and the men envious. Chuck owns the skill of cunningness, of logic and even of seduction that made him so successful as a businessman. He laughs at the irony of it all. He vowed never to become his father. Too late for that, he can confirm.

On the other end, he fought against his businessman persona with his womanizing and constant need to win. As he was never one for compromise, he often either got his clients to give in or walk away. He still carries that need to win and have fun over anything. The worst thing was that all of New York was forced to mold into his vision. If you have a problem with the Chuck Bass lifestyle feel free to change continents. Chuck Bass didn't change. He didn't compromise. It was his nature, and nothing, or no one, could ever come break the rules he had set for himself.

He hears the door unlocking and in walks one Nathaniel Archibald. Chuck doesn't have to look. He was the only one who had a key to his suite, after all.

"Nathaniel, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Chuck looks at Nate, studying him carefully. For someone in his 40s he still retained that prince charming quality that always made the girls swoon. Nate, still pensive and often disoriented, remains to be one of Chuck's best friends. As well as Serena Archibald's nee Van Der Woodsen one true love.

It was not as if no one knew Serena and Nate would end up together. Serena and Nate, they were end-game. They were inevitable. No matter who Nate believed to have loved during his adolescence, it was evident that when it came to the leggy sunny blonde no one could compare.

It surprised Chuck that Nate, one who had always searched for a way out of the Upper East Side, would turn into yet another one of its drones. Of course, there was the exception of the fact that he was the only one who chose not to be disingenuous. After all, he is the congressman of New York. The title was befitting, Chuck believe. Nate was never that intellectual, but he did possess the ability to coax everyone into anything. Also, he did have good intentions. That was one thing Chuck couldn't say about himself.

"Can't I visit my best friend without being questioned of my motives?" _Hmm…_ Chuck pondered. _Not a bad retort… For Nate, of course. _Chuck finally sits up and meets Nate's gaze.

"No." He answered flatly. Nate chuckles, bending down the ground and grabbing hold of Chuck's pajamas. He tosses them to Chuck, who grabs hold of them and starts sliding them on his body.

"I just came by to make sure you didn't swallow your own tongue."

"What would make you think that? My tongue has been captivated all night." Chuck deadpans, a wry smirk tugged on the corners of his lips.

"Yes, well as 'captivated' as you were I still did want to make sure you were alright." Nate appeases

"You still haven't answered my question, Nathaniel. Why would you think I'd swallow my tongue? Surely you don't think your best friend is that drunk." Chuck gets off his bed, fully decked out in his royal violet pajamas. He was always eccentric. He strode over to the glass table, taking a seat as he gestures Nate to follow.

"Come on, Chuck. We both know that the only company you have are housekeeping and your little play pals." Nate drops the take out breakfast from Fred's on the table.

"I don't need anyone to take care of me." Says Chuck. Nate doesn't look convinced as he walks to the kitchen and takes out Chuck's ivory plates.

"That maybe true, but one day you will find yourself alone, Chuck." Nate reminds him, handing his eating utensils.

"What is so wrong with being alone?" Chuck challenges. Since when did Nate stand on a pedestal…Oh, when he actually did start to stand on one.

"Nothing, other than the fact that you alienate yourself from relationships so you don't get hurt again." Chuck ignores him as he grabs hold of the remote and turns his flat screen on.

Then, like a lightning bolt, came the startling and shocking image of Blair Waldorf. She sat primly on the couch, resembling aristocrats in France centuries ago. Even from the digitalized image Chuck could tell Blair is still the way she was before; overly meticulous and high strung. Who knew it would make for a great morning talk show?

"I am." Chuck insists

"Then why haven't you gone out with other women? For real, I mean." Nate specifies before Chuck could send him another one of his witty one-liners.

"Because I like being single. Nathaniel, I know you are far too deep, stuck in your perfect political family, to see the happiness being a bachelor and not being responsible brings. But you have to trust me, it is much better than going to work and going back to the wife and the kids." Chuck explains to the congressman, who only shakes his head in dismay.

"One day, you will have to realize there is more to life than this fleeting lifestyle of booze and women. One day, you will have to take responsibility for more than just which slut you take home." Nate sighs "Chuck, one day you might wake up and find yourself alone, with no one around to catch you when you fall." Chuck nodds, thoughtfully.

"Let me take a wild guess; Reese has been forcing you to watch Gilmore Girl reruns, hasn't she?"

There's a silence.

"What's it to you?"

Chuck can no longer bite back the laughter. Pretty soon, his and Nate's laughter echoes through his suite. It's a big change to Chuck, who was accustomed to coming home to silence. Once the silence dies down Chuck begins to speak.

"I'm fine, Nate. I like my life. I like not being tied down to someone, not being obligated to be or do anything. I get to live my life for myself. What could make anyone, happier?" Chuck Bass questions, even if he already knows the answer.

Nothing.

No responsibility, no commitment and certainly no obligation. No reason to change yourself or compromise who you are for the happiness of others. You get to life your like the way you want and no one could say anything about it. Chuck doesn't care if no one else saw it that way, he did. Everyone else could just deal with that.

"_So this is it? Even after everything, this is what has become of us?"_

"_I guess."_

"_I should've known from the very beginning, you are a coward who'll never fight for anything he wants."_

"_Ever thought that maybe I never wanted this in the first place?"_

"_I really wish I did, it would have saved both of us the grief."_

"_Well?"_

"_Goodbye, Chuck Bass."_

"_Goodbye, Blair Waldorf."_

--

"Good morning New York, its Blair Waldorf here. Today, as the rest of you sit in utter obscurity and try to find meaning in your shallow consumer-driven lives, we have a full show lined up." Blair Waldorf greets the audience, a charming grin on her face. The audience applause as she said this, earning herself an even bigger ego boost.

"We have the morning reports, our sweepstakes, our special guest advisor on how to handle money in the buzzing city of New York and supermodel, or rather my best friend, Serena Van Der Woodsen teach us how to gain those picture perfect photos. We also so have Brooklyn bred Jenny Humphrey giving us a sneak peek of her brand new fall collection! Now we have Matt with the morning news. Matt, you're on." The brunette continue silkily. She sat still, listening to the morning report and feigning interest about some dog pound being opening.

It was the downside to being a successful morning talk show host, having to deal with things that didn't interest you. Of course, it did have its upsides. For one, she finally found a use for her communication art degree from NYU, which she now proudly proclaims to everyone as it shows off her New York heritage. Next, she was _good _at it. Right after college it was a downward spiral for Blair Waldorf.

Honestly, she didn't know what she could achieve. Nate was a clerk for the mayor's office, Serena was starting off as a model for GVD, New York's most accomplished modeling agency, even lowly Dan Humphrey managed to get his first novel out. Where was Blair in all of this? Stuck working at a PR company that _Cyrus _had to call to get her a job.

Of course, that wasn't the worst. The worst was dealing with what happened with Chuck. A shiver went up Blair's spine, the thought of Chuck Bass overwhelms her. She covers her aguish with a light giggle. She then realizes that Matt was talking about a murder in Central Park. Okay, maybe that wasn't appropriate. Blair shook her head slowly, trying to look pensive. It was working, she believed. The director points to her and she quickly responds to Matt.

"Hope that clears up, Matt. I truly do. We'll be having a break and when we come back we'll be serving up some breakfast for the audience. Stay in tune."

"Three, two, one, we're off!" Bellows the stage manager Chris. Blair stands up from her seat and walks over backstage, where her eye-catching best friend opened her arms to Blair and quickly wraps them around her brunette childhood friend.

"Blair! You were amazing!" Blair rolls her eyes at her best friend.

"You say that every time I go on, S. After awhile the praise wears off and it starts to become annoying." Blair points out, taking the time to push strands to stray hair off her forehead.

"Blair? Touch up." Says Maggie, gesturing to Blair seat right in front of the 60's Hollywood glamour mirror. Blair caught a glimpse of _Mrs. Archibald _jokingly sneering at her.

"At least you got your wish." Serena muses

"And what wish would that be, S? Waking up at dawn and getting laugh lines?" Blair muses, tracing her laugh lines. She releases her grip and lets the make up artist apply a fresh coat of foundation.

"Being like Audrey Hepburn, of course." Blair scoffs

"I'm no Audrey, S. I'm a morning talk show host with three ex-husbands." The brunette could catch her blond friend bite her lip in hesitation as she gaped at the ground.

"Three husbands." Blair murmurs to herself, realizing just how lonely her life was.

"B, it… You okay?" She questions

"Perfect… Just perfect… It's been five months, I'm over it." Blair inspects her make up, scrutinizing her appearance. "More gloss, Margie."

"It's Maggie." She interrupts

"Whatever,"

"Blair, you're not wearing the dress we sent over." Blair sees Jenny Humphrey, with her signature fake platinum blonde hair and punk rock style. _And I'm the one who hasn't grow up? Miss America is thirty eight and she still dresses like a Brooklyn Adolescent. _The brunette swirls around and raises an eyebrow.

"Little Jenny Humphrey, haven't seen you in awhile." Jenny nods

"Yeah, I was busy with Gram. We're working on the line for next season." Serena smiles at Jenny enthusiastically.

"Well, I can't wait to wear them." The blonde coed excitedly. Jenny returns the grin.

"Uh, yeah, Blair, the dress?" Jenny asks, her eyebrows raised expectantly.

"Oh, you mean the black above-the-knee length cocktail dress with the plunging neckline and the over-the-top silver sequins. I thought it made me look like an over-compensating call girl." Blair snaps, leaving Jenny dumbfounded in shock.

"Besides, I don't think it would be appropriate of me to, how do you say it 'dress like the ultimate sex kitten?' on a morning talk show." Jenny sends her a glare filled with indignation.

"Its suppose to be a dress for the modern 30-something woman. Though I do get why it wouldn't fit you. Aren't you already above the age demographic?" Blair shoots Jenny a death glare. _She becomes the queen of Constance two decades ago and she's still acting immature_ Blair thinks, standing up from her seat.

"Why you little…" Blair seethes

"Blair, Jenny, stop it!" Serena convenes. "You're making a scene." She hisses to the two ex-queens of Constance.

"She started it!" Escapes Jenny's pink lips before Blair could start yet another riot.

"And I'm going to end it." Blair hisses, grabbing hold of the dress Jenny had made specifically for her and tossing it to the ground. She takes her Manolos and stomped on it. The sequins were disfiguring because of the pressure, to Jenny's utter horror.

Blair tauntingly grins at Jenny, crossing her arms as she avoided Serena's glare.

"You're not Eleanor Waldorf, Jenny. Want to know what I think? I think you're nothing more than a pseudo designer who only gets by because of her relation to Lily Bass. Your clothes are disgusting. No one, and I mean no one, would find your stripper punk rocker chic anywhere close to fashionable." Serena nudges her best friend, a reprimanding glare gleaming from her radiant face.

"At least I did more with my life than host some _tacky _morning talk show and date all three of the Jonas Brothers." Snaps Jenny in retort, her face flushed with humiliation as everyone gaped at them.

"I did not date the Jonas Brothers, little Humphrey. Now go get your dresses and your ass out of here… We've had enough scenes for today." Serena now gave up trying to coax the girls out of another one of their screaming matches.

"And what are you going to tell everyone? That you _kicked _me off the show?"

"No, I'll tell them the truth." Blair appeases

"Which is what? That you're an immature bitch who _still _thinks she's queen of the Upper East Side?" The young Humphrey said in a deathly whisper

"Blair, six seconds!" Hollers the stage manager. Blair quickly retreats to her position in the kitchen set beside the top chef from Dela Cota.

"Welcome back everyone. Before I introduce my lovely personal friend and world-renowned chef I would just like to announce that designer Jenny Humphrey will no longer be joining us because of a case of Crabs." The entire audience shrieks in shock and scandal. The Waldorf woman looks over Jenny, who now looks like a deer about to be run over b a Hummer car filled with hunters.

"Apparently she got it a week after she hooked up with a low-class male prostitute at Monkey Bar." Blair continues dismissively, as if she hadn't divulged false information to all of New York city.

"YOU BITCH!" Jenny screams, striding into the set despite the objections of security. She grabs onto Blair's perfectly curled tendrils and tugs on them with her hands.

"Let go of me, Mrs. Crab!"

"Ugh, get a life Blair!" Jenny grabs onto the whip cream on the counter and holds it up like a gun. Blair doesn't hesitate. She grabs maple syrup and does the same. Then the brunette lungs at Jenny, pressing down on the syrup and having Jenny covered in the brown substance. Jenny gasps and whips the whip cream at Blair before she had time to respond.

Serena, who was now standing beside the stage manager, gaped at him.

"Aren't you going to do anything?" She snaps

"Are you kidding me? This is even better than when Blair told everyone about her and the congressman's sex li- Oh! Serena! Hehe." Christopher Stone said, nervously turning away.

"I forgot that man was your husband… Er, sorry." He stutters as he apologizes.

Serena looks back up and sees that Blair has now slipped on her Manolos and was lying on the ground, with Jenny trying to lung at her. Finally, Serena stalked up to the stage, much to the displeasure of the audience and tore Jenny off of a furious Blair.

"We'll be back with a commercial break!" Serena tells the camera, glaring at the stage manager to do so. He complies. Blair was about to make her way for Jenny when Serena stops her path.

"B, what was that?" Serena stares into Blair's gorgeous face, now covered in whipped cream.

"That was me getting revenge. She made fun of my age, S. Don't tell me you never got pissed when Donna Karen kicked you off her runway show because you were over thirty five." Blair says

"I was!" Serena reminds her best friend. "But I didn't reveal to the whole world that she has crabs, which, by the way, Jenny doesn't." Blair rolls her eyes.

"B, were 41, don't tell me after all these years you haven't learned to be a bit more… Mature?" Serena inquires.

"Excuse me?" Blair snaps.

"I'm just saying that isn't it about time you stop with all this? Grow up, Blair! You can't just start a food fight and l-lie to everyone and humiliate one of your _friends_!" Serena replies

"Jenny Humphrey is not my friend, S." The brunette beauty responds

"But you did know her in high school. B, she was your protégé. She… She was a queen, like you. Don't tell me those aren't good enough reasons to not humiliate her. Besides, friend or not that was a bad scene, B. Just promise me you won't do it again and that you'll try to restrain from your bitch ugres more." Blair nods in response

"She started it!" They hear Jenny snap at Blair's manager

"Did not!" Blair screams

"Did too!" Jenny returns

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Slut!"

"Bitch!"

"Prick!"

"Jerk!"

"Loser!"

"Has-been!"

"Never-was!"

"Dumb blonde!"

"Brooklyn spawn!"

Serena shakes her head in dismay.

"So much for promises."

--

Well? Like? Love? Hate? I just wanted to provide a prologue as to what Chuck and Blair are like now that they're older. Chuck has become a bachelor who is scared of commitment and relationships and Blair has stayed immature and bitchy. I'll bring in their daughter Charlie in the next chapter.

Please Review!


	3. It's a girl!

_Spotted: Morning talk show host/Queen Bitch of the Upper East Side was caught in a massive display of aggravation. Blair Waldorf came on the screen of her famous talk show host "On Being Blair" and blurted out "Designer Jenny Humphrey will no longer be joining us because of a case of crabs. Apparently she got it a week after she hooked up with a low-class male prostitute at Monkey Bar". Then came out, you guessed it, Jenny Humphrey. And she let Blair have it. How? By serving her up maple syrup. I've seen these two tango ever since they were seventeen and here's what I have to tell you; it never gets old. Though, B does. Sources say that Blair, after dissing J Humphrey designs, forces Jenny to retort with a nasty comment about Blair's age. Everyone knows age comes before beauty._

Blair slams her NY Weekly a sneer built up on her face. Ever since Gossip Girl had achieved a section in the top-selling magazine she has made them her prime victims. _I really shouldn't be that surprised, it's Gossip Girl._ Even after all this time she still found ways to taunt all the Constance Alumni.

"Can you believe this, S? Everyone's talking about it!" The brunette Waldorf exasperates, opening the tabloid to the section about her and Jenny. Serena eyes it, then raises an eyebrow. _Twenty years and you still have that disapproving look in your eyes when it comes to this kind of stuff_.

"B, how can you expect them not to? You _attacked _Jenny Humphrey! On live TV, no less!" Serena reminds her best friend

"She starte-" Blair attempts to protests

"You _slammed _her brand. A brand you were advertising on _your _show!" The blonde interrupts her rant.

"But it's not my fau-" Blair was not interrupted by the entering of Riley and Rhyze Van Der Archibald into the Archibald's dining room.

Blair inspects the two. Riley and Rhyze Archibald, with their patented sunny blonde hair that was always just a bit too long. It doesn't surprise Blair that the two male twins were spectacularly handsome. After all, with Serena vdW and Nate Archibald as your parents why wouldn't you be? Both were tall, as to be expected, and are the owners of lean, toned and built bodies.

The twins share their mother and father's eyes, a mixture of blue and green that was always expressive and somewhat thoughtful. The difference was really their personalities, Blair notes.

Riley was, with no question, his mother. A ray of sunshine and perfection that often blinds everyone in their path. He had her charm, her ability to do no wrong and that unfair imperfect perfection. He carries himself without grace, but with energy. Energy that transforms him into the most popular boy in all of Saint Judes, as Nate so proudly brags. He has a heart of gold to match his shining locks. Sometimes Blair wonders if he'll ever love someone the way everyone else loves him.

Then there was Rhyze, the shyer and quieter of the two. He holds himself back and lets Riley shine in the spotlight. It was almost as if Rhyze understood the complexities of being twins. That being exactly alike would take away all individuality. Rhyze chose to hold himself back. To hold back his potential to be popular, smart and lovable. He prefers to stand in the background, taking in everything. In fact, in the long time Blair has known the twins she can read Riley like an open book and yet none of Rhyze. Not to say that Rhyze didn't shine on his own behalf. While his younger twin achieves all the popularity and athletic ability he focuses on the intellectual and proper side. Rhyze was valedictorian, the perfectly bred Upper East Side boy.

Sometimes Blair wonders which one would find himself inferior to the other.

"Rhyze, Riley, where's your sister?" Inquires Serena, her motherly self instantly turning itself on as she raises a demanding eyebrow.

Riley shrugs nonchalantly, and Blair feels her best friend's heated glare fall upon the younger son's face.

"Riley, let me ask you again, where is Reese?" She narrows down on one of the blonde Saint Judes students.

"No, I'm Rhyze." The blonde blurts out. Blair snickers from the background. It never got old, watching Serena mix up her two twin sons.

Serena averts her gaze to the other blonde, who was quietly trying to retreat up to his room.

"Riley." Serena hisses, forcing the younger twin, Riley, to turn to her.

"Why are you asking me? What about Rhyze?" Serena keeps her gaze steady

"Riley, I know you well enough to know that between you and your brother you tend to be the more dishonest one." Riley scoffs, returning his mother's glare with one of his own.

"Just because I'm not Mr. Upper East Side doesn't mean I'm dishonest. I don't _know _where Reese is, okay?" Riley exasperates

In storms 14-year-old Reese Lilian Van Der Archibald, her face mirroring her own twin brother's whenever they would scheme against each other; filled with rage and vengeance.

"RILEY! I can't believe you _ditched _me at the Lower East Side!" Bellows the blonde, her eyes transfixing on her brother's. Unlike her older twin brothers Reese, or affectionately nicknamed RL, she wasn't nearly as tall or lean. Instead, her face was crafted that of an angel's, unlike her brother's more commercial looks.

Blair couldn't help but like Reese's beauty more than her mother's. Reese is poised, dignified. She carries an air of old European royalty beauty that sneaks up on you. She wasn't so obviously gorgeous as her mother and that works for her. It doesn't make her a mini-Serena, and Blair knows just how big a relief that gives a teenage girl.

"YOU LEFT HER AT THE LOWER EAST SIDE?"

"It was a joke! Just because she couldn't keep her mouth shut for a minu-" Riley is interrupted by Serena grabbing onto his right ear and tugging hard on it, much to the pleasure of his younger sister.

"Riley Cornelius Van Der Woodsen Archibald!" Hisses Serena

"W-w-wait! T-this isn't fair! Don't I g-get the b-benefit of the doubt?" Stutters young 16-year-old Riley, cringing in pain as his mothers tugs even harder on his ear

"What you did WAS WRONG!" Snaps Serena, her eyes blazing with anger

"S-she's l-lying! M-mom she… She was with LUKE SPARKS!" Serena immediately drops Riley's ear, her turqcoise eyes averting to her youngest and only daughter.

"YOU BLEEDING IDIOT! YOU SAID YOU'D COVER FOR ME!" Suddenly Reese's kind loving daughter routine cracks and she's ready to murder. Blair secretly wonders if this girl was even Serena or Nate's daughter, neither parent has the killer instinct.

"She was gonna tear off my ear, you bitch!" Riley reminds her

Reese gaps in indignation, a death glare similar to Serena's flashing.

"I did not lend you two grand to pay back your DEBT to Penn Hoffster so you can snitch!" Finally Serena begins to tire.

"NATE!" Bellows Serena, and instantly comes strolling in Nate, flustered by the screaming match being held at the dining room.

"_Your _son," Serena points to Riley "Has been _gambling _away his _trust fund!_" Serena then grabs Reese by the arm. "And _your _daughter has been sneaking around with _Luke Sparks!_" Reese's almond-shaped eyes widen in confusion.

"What is so wrong with Luke Sparks?" Instead it was Nate who answers, an irate glare flashing through his eyes. Blair, still sitting in the sidelines, wonders when the usually giddy Serena and Nate learned to glare into people's souls and turn them into stone.

"Let's see." It's Rhyze who speaks up, grinning devilishly, being the only one not to be reprimanded by their rather strict parents.

"He's in _my _grade, he's slept with half of Constance and had flings with the other half, though only hell knows what substitutes they made for their abstinence, he smokes hash, has been arrested and from what I know and to top it all of he's a good-for-nothing sleaze." Rhyze deadpans. The youngest child can no longer fight the urge to lung her arrogant brother in an act of malevolence.

"Oh, shut up! We get it, you're perfect, now fuck off!"

"All three of you, shut up!" Nate screeches, earning the attention of all the inhabitants.

"Reese Lilian Archibald and Riley Cornelius Archibald, to my office, _now_." There's a sternness in the elder Archibald's voice, a sternness neither Archibald descendant can ignore. They both follow as commanded, but not without mouthing names at each other in aguish. As their footsteps vanish, Serena, Blair and Rhyze all know that the two were in for a lesson.

It was always like that. Serena would often be the very first wall any of them would come by, with her interrogative manner that shakes them. Once she's worn them down, in comes Nate who does the regular sermon and punishment. Now was no different. The smirking Rhyze excuses himself and retreats to his room, satisfied by the results.

"You're luck you don't have kids." Grumbles Mrs. Archibald, huffing in exhaustion as she plops herself down beside her childhood best friend, her cheek on Blair's shoulder.

"I know. I think I'm virtually incapable of ever taking care of children. Remember Claire and Petra, my second husband's brat girls with the disgusting bob cuts?" Blair tries to lighten the mood. Unknown to Serena as she said those words her voice darkens, just a little bit. It was such a tiny change in expression, but Blair felt it deeply root into her heart. Serena's melodic giggle escapes her lips.

"Blair Waldorf, mother? Kind of makes me puke." Blair laughs along. Her phone rings and she picks it up.

"Hello?"

"Blair?" Blair immediately recognizes the voice.

"Dan Humphrey? To what do I owe this pleasure?" The sarcasm is so palpable Serena could bet Dan could just imagine her saying it.

"There's a situation down here at my loft. Can you come over?" Dan seems to have ignored the blow. Serena wonders if it's reflex, having to deal with Blair all these years.

"Come over to Brooklyn?" Blair questions, her eyebrows raise elegantly

"Yeah," Dan replies

"Why would I do that? I actually value my life to not be wasting it in Brooklyn. You'd think that after have six published novels and frequent columns in the Times you'd understand. I suppose you can take the boy out of Brooklyn but you can't take Brooklyn out of the boy." Again shines the classic Blair Waldorf smirk. Serena can no longer make out what else Dan said, but it makes Blair's smirk fall. It doesn't seem like she can comprehend anything he's saying, but she's muttering "uhuh" as he talks.

"I'm coming down." Blair slams her phone shut.

"B, what was that?" Inquires Serena, concerned

"I-I-I d-don't know, S… We just need t-to g-go." Stutters the usually eloquent Waldorf woman.

"B! You have to tell me what's going on!" The blonde demands. Then she catches a glimpse of Blair's face

"Serena, I'm begging you just… Don't ask questions we have to… Go, now." Serena stares into Blair's face. She's frantic, anguished and scared. It was rare you saw the might Blair Waldorf scared.

"Please." Blair begs

"Okay." Obliges Serena

--

Blair and Serena sat beside each other on Dan and Vanessa's lime green futon couch in their Brooklyn flat, both their jaws slightly ajar as they gape at the figure sitting right across from them. Dan and Vanessa, who are currently standing beside the two Upper East Side women are mouthing words like "talk!" or "do something!" to each other.

"Are they always this… Quiet?" The figure questions, eyeing both in question

"Usually you can't get them to shut up. Especially if its about Zac Efron or Audrey Hepburn." Dan answers reassuringly

"Blair." Vanessa says

"Yes." Blair responds automatically, yet her eyes remain transfixed on the figure across from her

"Maybe you'd like to say something… Anything?" When Blair remains incapable of replying the ominous figure stands on her feet.

"Okay," _She _says firmly. "You and Chuck Bass had a kid. You two gave up said kid and, voila, sixteen years later _I _am that kid."

"_I wouldn't have come to you if I didn't know I could trust you."_

"_What makes you think you can?"_

"_Because I can't turn to anyone else."_

"_Blair, what's wrong?"_

"_I'm pregnant, with Chuck's baby."_

"_H-how d-did this happen?"_

"_How do you think you impregnate a girl, Humphrey?"_

"_I-I k-know… What can I do?"_

"_Y-you c-can help me… Dan I n-need you to help me get rid of it._

"_H-how?"_

"_I don't know."_

"_Are you going to a-abort your daughter?"_

"_No… I can't do it, Dan. I can't but I can't take care of her. DAN! Help me! What do I do?"_

"_You can keep her."_

"_I can't."_

"_Blair, I'm not your biggest fan but… But you can have this baby… What did Chuck say?"_

"_Chuck and I broke up."_

"_You'll get back toge-"_

"_No, we won't. Dan, I'm thinking of giving her up… I… I need you to help me."_

"_Her?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_Why me?"_

"_Because Serena's not here and despite our differences… I feel that I can trust you with this secret… She can never know, the baby. The same with Serena and Chuck and… Everyone."_

"_Okay"_

"W-wait… I j-just… I'm just taking t-this in… You're here… Here, standing in front of me." Blair slowly stands up, choking on her words

"Amazing observation, Captain Obvious." Comes the wry response of their supposed daughter. Suddenly Blair feels her brain thump, another headache occurring in her mind. Blair stumbles slightly and Serena snatches her arm to support the stumbling brunette.

"Um… Y-you're beautiful." Stutters Blair, and she was.

Chestnut brown tendrils fell down her back, shiny and glossy but not overly dreamy. They went well with her porcelain skin, skin that sparkles in the light, Blair observes. Her face, crafted with Chuck Bass's jaw, though more feminine and slender, and less of Blair's baby fat. A perfectly sculpted nose perched in the center of her face. Blair finds herself staring into her eyes. Eyes that, to Blair's surprise, wasn't doe eyed or squinty like hers and Chuck's respectively.

Instead she has those of Chuck's late mother; an interesting shade of patented Emerald orbs that immediately rose to meet Blair's gaze.

"Yeah, thanks." Answers the mystery girl.

"Do you… Do you need something? Money, help, what? What's wrong?" The brunette asks frantically, her eyes searching her… _daughter's _face.

"Actually, I do need something." Considers the girl

"Can I talk to you? Without vegan activist, brooding writer and Kate Moss the second eyeing me like I was put on display at the Met?" Blair nods, too absorbed in shock to hear the joking spite that made Dan and Vanessa giggle, albeit a bit hesitant.

"Dan?" Blair raises an eyebrow

"Over there, first door to the left." Dan points down the hallway of his loft.

--

"I wouldn't have come here if I didn't have a reason." She begins, pacing around the study as she contemplates in front of Blair.

_I never thought I'd see you again… I never thought of what you'd look like or be like or anything… I never thought I'd ever be lucky enough to see you in front of me. _Blair thinks thoughtfully.

"What's your name?" Blair interrupts the brunette in her explanation. She turns to Blair.

"Charlotte but everyone calls me Charlie." She responds, nonchalantly.

"Look, I don't know how I'm supposed to ask for this but… But I have to." Charlie exasperates

"I have too." She murmurs decisively, and Blair finally realizes what she was doing. She was convincing herself to say it, to say whatever it was that she needed to say. Blair thinks she wont, because she's Chuck Bass' daughter and last time she checked Chuck Bass wasn't one to say something he didn't want to. Oh, she knew.

"I _need _to get out of the foster care system." Charlie spits out, and even from the first sentence Blair already feels her heart aching. There's a maternal instinct that kicks in somewhere along the lines of four ex-step-children and her actual child. She imagines her daughter, in a filthy house in the Bronx surrounded by crime and poverty. She can see her biting on the skin around her nail buds (because she's already chewed down on her fingernails). Blair imagines her starving, her stomach grumbling as she waits for her abusive foster parents to come home from their graveyard shifts.

Honestly, the Constance Billard graduate never knew of hardship. Not in the real sense, anyway. Up to now, she thought that the most difficult life was having to live in Brooklyn with an ex-rocker father and a wannabee-Blair Waldorf sister. She never thought there would be anything worse than that. Then here comes her _own daughter _to prove her wrong.

"Why? What did they do?" Blair asks in panic. The elder brunette thinks she saw a tear fall from Charlie's eyes, but she was wrong. She wonders if she's wrong about everything else.

"I've never… I've never stayed in one place. All I've been doing is being shifted from house to house to orphanages…"

"Orphanages? But... They-they promised that you'd get adopted right away. They said they'd find a home for you… W-what what happened?" Questions Blair nervously. _Why hadn't she been adopted… She's perfect. She's Charlie Bass for crying out loud! The whole reason I gave her up was so that I could give her a better life than she would ever get from me._

"When I was younger it was this thing with my lung. I… I finished all the surgeries and everything but by that time I was four and no one… No one's really into toddlers. Most people want babies." She halts and looks towards Blair. "Not everyone, of course." She considers.

"But… I don't get it… T-they they _promised _they'd find you a home!" Insists Blair frantically, her eyes gleaming in malevolence.

"They couldn't! I was too sick as a baby and once I stopped being sick _no one_ wanted me. Then I started to be put into foster homes. It was okay at first… But then…" She scoffs as tears fall down from her eyelids. "Then when I was staying with foster home number two the woman's boyfriend would pass out in her couch, even if she wasn't around… He… He was drunk and high and he… He raped me." Her voice is clear, as if there was no more pain in her. Almost as if she was healed from the event. _Almost_

"After that I developed this long term nightmare disorder, along with occasional insomnia." Charlie states the facts as if she weren't talking about herself. Blair doesn't know how to react so she nods thoughtfully.

"No one wants someone who wakes up screaming in the middle of the night or complains about the noise. I can't sleep with noise, really. Just a coin dropping on the floor will hinder by insomnia." She informs the brunette. Then Charlie sighs to herself.

"I don't know why I came here, actually. I found your name in my social worker's papers and took the liberty of finding you… I don't mean to d-disturb you, I don't. It's just that… My _life _has been a downward spiral to hell for the past sixteen years. Basically, my point is that… Is that I need help. I'm not asking you to take me back but maybe… Maybe you can get them to put me in an institution for nutcases like me. Maybe you can get me some help so that maybe… Just _maybe _someone will consider adopting me."

Blair doesn't know why, but a flare is lit in her. A flare that burns into her soul. Suddenly Gossip Girl or her cat fights with Jenny Humphrey or _her _didn't even matter anymore. It doesn't matter to Blair that her job is her life. It doesn't matter that she was on the look out for her fourth husband. Blair's insecurity inflicted by her best friend, her mother's harsh personality, Chuck Bass and Nate Archibald (because when it came down to it they were her only true loves) and all those things that makes Blair, Blair Waldorf doesn't matter.

_I'm Blair Waldorf. At twenty three I caught Chuck cheating on me with one of his whore because I mentioned marriage. At twenty three I broke up with Chuck Bass and my dreams of a picket fence and three kids were gone. At twenty four I gave birth to a baby girl on May 27. I gave her up because I thought she deserved better than having me and Chuck for parents. Now, sixteen years later, I realize I'm wrong. There's no running from her, no hiding. I was in love with Chuck Bass and we have a daughter that I let go. I can't lie and pretend either even occurred, I can't anymore._

_Serena was right, she always was. She was right about me being immature. When I lost Chuck, I lost a piece of me. And when I lost Charlie, she took another piece. Everyone I cared about took pieces of me until there wasn't any of me left for myself. But here we are and suddenly I have an opportunity to get those pieces back. I can fix Charlie… I can finally get the redemption I so yearned for._

_Charlie is a part of me. Chuck is a part of me. But I'm a part of them. We're connected, we always have been. _

"Charlie." Whimpers Blair as she stands up to face her daughter.

"Do you want-" The doors swing open and it reveals Chuck Bass, panting with wide eyes as he gapes at the figure standing beside Blair.

Then time stops.

--

Kind of a dramatic chapter but not the best. I'm hoping it gets better in the next one when we see Chuck and Blair going head-to-head over all they've been through. Not much info on Charlie yet other than that she has a lot of post traumatic disorders and she's an insomniac because of the nightmares she gets. Any idea what she should be like? And what about the Archibalds? Think they could be like Charlie's family? What about a romance with the twins?

Review!

XOXO


	4. I can be your family

Chuck Bass, man of increasing power and position, famous for being an in-control womanizing cad, stood in the entry way of the Humphrey's study. Chuck's usually composed face was replaced with that of one slack-jawed twitching-eyed man. He gapes at the figure in front of Blair, blinking and squinting to see if what he sees is real.

"$20 says he pays Charlie off." Whispers Dan Humphrey to his wife, Vanessa Humphrey nee Abrams. She glares accusingly at him. "This is Chuck Bass." The novelist reminds his activist wife, raising his eyebrows to see if she would actually protest his accusations. Vanessa's glare weakens and she looks over at the Waldorf-Bass 'family'. She watches as Chuck stumbles back in shock.

"$30 says he gets his PI to get dirt of Charlie to blackmail her away." Obliges Vanessa. Serena turns to the couple, her eyes blazing.

"Seriously? Chuck and Blair's daughter appears out of nowhere and you guys are placing bets?" Snaps Mistress Archibald, eyeing both of them. Dan chuckles, raising his eyebrows at Serena.

"$50 says they keep her." Whispers Serena, glaring accusingly at both of them. Dan and Vanessa turn away, choosing to plop themselves down on the couches to avoid Serena's disapproving glare.

--

"I c-cannot believe you!" Chuck seethes abruptly, a penetrating glare sent directly to Blair, who scoffs in disbelief.

"Excuse me?" Questions Blair, her voice still shaken from the recent arrival of one Charlie.

"How could you have kept this from me?" Blair returns his death glare with one of her own.

"How could I what? Save you from the trouble of doing it yourself?" Accuses Blair in spite. Chuck walks towards Blair, towering over her.

"I would have never… I would have never gotten rid of her." He hisses under his breathe

"You didn't even want to move in with me!" The brunette reminds him

"God, Blair that is different! We have a daughter! A daughter you have _forgotten _to tell me about!" The infamous Bass reminds Blair.

"How could I? How could I tell you we were having a baby? I was going to your suite to _tell you _when I caught you in bed with one of my college minions!" Blair's voice cracks, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions flowing through her.

"So you didn't even think I deserved to know?" Chuck points out angrily.

"You wouldn't have cared! And… How do you even know?" Asks Blair skeptically. Chuck halts his tirade and stares.

"I have a PI on Humphrey ever since rumors have been flying about that he was writing a short fiction story about some rather… Illicit business ventures." Chuck admits. "Of course I didn't think I'd get a phone call during a meeting saying that Humphrey has been housing my daughter." Snaps Chuck.

"She's not your daughter, Chuck. She's mine." Blair points out aggressively. Chuck scoffs derisively.

"Your daughter? After you gave her up and let her rot in foster care?" Blair raises her hand and slaps him directly on the face, a demonic look plastered on her face.

"I did what I had to do. What, you actually think I was going to let her get stuck with you and me? You didn't want this, Chuck. You didn't want a baby or a future."

"And what is this? Revenge? She was born on the 27th of May. If I remember correctly her conception occurred right after you mentioned marriage. What, did you decide to get pregnant so I'd have to get stuck with you?" The brunette feels a fictional dagger stabbed into her chest. Tears well up in Blair's eyes, and Chuck feels just a little bit guilty. Then he remembers how she lied and reconsiders.

"I never wanted to have a kid!" Slips out of Blair's mouth, before either one of the two remember that their daughter was watching the entire scene in anxiousness. Blair is the first to turn to Charlie, her face disintegrating into its guilt-stricken form. The Bass owner looks down at his Italian loafers to avoid Charlie's genuinely hurt expression from being seen by his eyes.

"Charlie… No, that's not what I meant… I mean-" Charlie cuts her off with an understanding nod.

"I get it, you never wanted me. If you did, then you wouldn't have given me up." Charlie's voice is anger-free. It was almost as if she already accepts the faith of her life. She'll stay in foster care, work at some middle-class restaurant for the rest of her life and die. It breaks Blair's heart even more.

"Look," Chuck begins, looking up at Charlie with blank eyes.

"I understand your predicament at the orphanage but… But I _am _willing to help. It has been verified that you are, in fact, my daughter." Blair looks towards him

"You had your doubts?" She inquires, her eyebrows rose elegantly.

"This isn't the first time I hear news of a child, Blair. Anyone would kill to get at my fortune." The Waldorf scoffs derisively.

"Thank you for that extremely offensive comment, _Mr. Bass_." Chuck looks towards Charlie, who shook her head in shame. "Thank you for automatically assuming that was what I wanted… Did you ever think that m-maybe I came here because I wanted a family? That maybe I came here so I could get to know my supposed father? Did you ever think, or even consider, that I wanted more than just ownership of half of the New York skyline?" Questions Charlie harshly, forcing Chuck to avoid her gaze in silence. Charlie shakes her head dismissively.

"Know what? I'm sorry? Honestly, I really am. I should've never have come here… You two…" She laughs mockingly. "You have more issues in your pinky than I will ever have!" She points out. "Just… Forget it, okay? Just forget about it." Charlie turns her back on her parents, storming out of the loft as she listens to the faint echoes of her parents calling after her.

--

Blair Waldorf and Chuck Bass sat in his limo in silence, both sitting on two different sides of the overly extravagant limo. Blair sat primly on the leather seats, as if she were part of the French court doing the Victorian era. Of course, her bloodshot dry eyes and her cracking knuckles were ones to give her composure away. For thirty minutes they sat there in silence, trying to find Charlie right after she had hopped on the subway. Chuck is about to reach for a drink in the limo's mini fridge when Blair scoffs silently.

"You'd think that after realizing you have a daughter you'd have a better solution that losing your sobriety." The brunette comments casually. That insult would've made Blair flutter in triumph, instead it just reminds her of what has just occurred in the Humphrey household.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Asks Chuck seriously, running his shaky hand through his disheveled midnight black hair. Blair sighs thoughtfully.

"I don't know." Blair admits, the anger in her voice no longer present. "I didn't know how to tell you… It's just that… You had your life all… Planned out. You _knew _you were going to be a hotel mogul. You _knew _that you'd be successful and prosperous… You knew you were going to be happy, with or without me." Chuck stops her.

"I wouldn't have been happy without you." There's an innocence in Chuck's voice. An innocence Blair was no longer use to hearing from the stubborn man that made her run in circles

"No," Blair murmurs. "You would have been… Chuck, you were successful and happy and thriving back then… As for me? I was working at a dead beat PR company! I didn't know what I was going to do with my life! I just didn't know! So I thought maybe, just maybe, my future was with you. I _thought _that my future was to be Mrs. Bass who'd run all your charity events, be hooked onto your arm at every gala you attended, have your children and spend my life with you." A stray tears falls from Blair's already tired weepy eyes.

"I got pregnant and you cheated, and suddenly I realized I didn't have a future… I didn't have a future with you or on my own or with our baby." Blair raises her gaze to meet Chuck's, who was watching Blair's beautiful face fall into yet another somber expression.

"But I loved you, Chuck. I loved you too much. I knew you didn't want to be a father… Chuck, admit it, this is the last thing you want for yourself! So I gave her up, because I though that someone else would want her. I thought that she'd have a future. I thought that she would have a chance to be happy! I also…" Blair halts. "I wanted to give _you _a chance to be happy. I wanted to give you a chance to get this whole family thing right, even if it wasn't for me. So I gave her up so you could have yet another chance at being happy." Chuck sighs, shaking his head as he purses his lips.

"B… Did you ever think that maybe Charlie was my chance? _Our _chance to be happy?" He inquires solemnly.

"What if it wasn't? Chuck, you didn't want a future!" Blair points out.

"Sometimes what you want isn't always what you need. What if I needed a reason to stay with you? What if I needed a reason to grow up? Blair, if you had told me…" Chuck catches his breathe. "If you had told me about Charlie then I would have had a reason to change."

"What about me, Chuck?" Asks Blair expectantly. "Wasn't I enough reason for you to change?" Blair wants him to say yes. She _needs _him to say yes. Chuck doesn't answer, but in all honesty he just answered all her questions with the silence.

They stay like that, both chewing on what the other one said as they drove into the Bronx, where Charlie would most likely be found.

"No, Blair." Chuck breaks the silence with two words that ring into both their ears. The brunette takes a look at him with those doe eyes.

"No, Blair… You weren't reason enough for me to change. I loved you, with all of my soul, but you just weren't enough of a reason for me to change myself." Chuck feels the presence of a lump at his throat.

"That's all I need to hear." Blair says dismissively, looking out at the window. They both stay in silence before they catch a glimpse of the bystanders of the Bronx, eyeing the out-of-place limo amongst the incredibly ethnic and rather scary surroundings.

They turn a corner to a crowded ally, where each side was dominated by a group of men drinking cheap beer as they played with old casino cards. Little children ran with balls from the dollar store and women are clad in spandex and low-cleavage tops. Blair looks down at her own ensemble; a green and blue Alice and Olivia silk dress that highlights her firm and petite frame and a pair of black Jimmy Choos and a black leather Charlotte Ronson jacket. She was probably worth more than the block of houses on the street.

"Chuck," Blair says as she spots Charlie sitting in between a buff Vietnamese teenage boy with a small mohawk and clad in a pair of jeans and a muscle tee. On Charlie's other end sat a Latina beauty, her feminine tendrils flowing down her face. Charlie seems uneasy from their view. Luckily they hadn't been seen by Charlie, who, if based on her family lineage, was one for holding a grudge.

"Chuck, do you want another chance?" Blair questions Chuck with all seriousness, her eyes boring into his. Chuck turns to her, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"At what?"

"At a daughter?" They stare into each other's eyes, but it quickly travels to their souls. They both knew they couldn't do it, they couldn't risk their own comfort and happiness for the possibility. But they'd do it anyway. They were Chuck and Blair that way, unbelievably masochistic and sadistic at the same time.

"I don't know if I'll be any good at this." Chuck informs Blair.

"Neither do I. All I know is that a womanizing asshole and bitch multi-divorcee is better than what she goes through." Blair appeases his hidden concern with the reality.

"What if she doesn't want us?"

"What if she does?"

"Mr. Bass?" The Bass chauffer questions him and his plans.

"We're getting off here." Says his boss opening the door and jumping out into the Bronx area, where he and Blair were in closer proximity to their daughter's life. It's chaotic, poor, unpolished. It was nothing like the Upper East Side bubble Blair and Chuck were accustomed to. Blair clutches her purse tighter to her body, looking around her surroundings warily. He places a hand on the back of her spine for a millisecond. It was enough to keep Blair from shaking.

They're easily seen by Charlie, whose eyes narrow in suspicion. Charlie's two companions look over at them, then at each other. Then they stand up from the doorstep, intertwining their fingers as they mumble their goodbyes to Charlie. They make their way down the street, but not before sparing another glance at the people who will change Charlie forever.

Charlie takes a deep breathe, standing up from her seat and wiping her ragged old jeans with her hands. Chuck and Blair walk until they're face-to-face with Charlie. The young brunette crosses her arms protectively around her waist.

"Why are you two here?" Charlie's voice is soft and tender.

"Charlie," They both say in unison before they begin their endless rants that make Charlie's head spin.

"One at a time!" She interrupts them both.

"Charlie, what I said I didn't… Charlie, I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean to offend you with what I said." The elder brunette notices how Chuck avoids apologizing. There wasn't a sorry in that sentence. Blair assumes that was pushing Chuck a bit too far. Charlie nods, understanding. That's when they both come to a conclusion; Charlie has been through more than they ever have.

Without Charlie, they saw their lives the ways other saw it; fun, safe, glamorous and completely untainted with the harsh truth of the outside world. Neither one ever thought about those kids; who share rooms (if they were fortunate enough to have one in the first place), fight over the last piece of cake and hope and pray that someone will fight for them.

But with Charlie, even if their lives only had a Charlie for an hour, things were different; they were different. Blair, against all odds, was learning that she can't win every argument, every battle. Blair knows that now. It doesn't matter if she wins a petty argument about something equally as frivolous. Blair can't and won't win everything. _It doesn't really matter if I do anymore. If winning is what matters in this world then nothing matter. _

Chuck, on the other hand, felt obliged. He felt committed to his daughter. He had to help her, he had to stay with her. This wasn't Blair and Chuck of 2009. This was Charlie, his daughter, who has to be taken care of.

"Charlie I know… Charlie _we_ know you have absolutely _no reason _to want to us. We hurt you and we left you-"

"Technically, you left her." Chuck reminds them both, earning an annoyed glare from Blair.

"I was carrying her when you left me." The talk show host hisses. "So you did too."

"Okay, you were saying?" Charlie interrupts another prospective argument between the two.

"But we _want _you… Charlie, we _want _you. Not because we have to want you, but because we want to want you… Charlie, we haven't gotten plans yet. We don't know where you're going to stay of how this is going to work out-"

"But we do know this; we want to be your family. We want you, we want us. Blair and I… We may not get it right the first time… Blair may not be able to fry and egg and I may not be any good at being a parent but we want to work at this. Charlie, Blair and I are committed to making up for everything you've ever been through."

"Charlie, I never wanted to hurt you." Pleads the Waldorf matriarch, her hands finding comfort as she brings them on Charlie's shoulders.

"But you did."

"I know… Charlie, you said you wanted a family. You said you wanted something better… I don't know if you're better off with us but…" Blair gulps, her emotions tearing inside of her.

"But we know that Blair and I… _We _can be your family." A fresh stream of tears descend from Charlie's guarded forest green orbs. She covers her mouth with her hands, gulping as she shakes her head in disbelief.

_They want me. For he first time in a decade and a half someone wants me. They want to be my family… _But the disbelief wears off, and suddenly she's not so sure she wants this. _You've been with enough foster homes, enough group homes, to know that nothing's permanent. People move away and get tired of you and want nothing more than a child of their own. These people, they want substitutes. They want something to make them feel happier about their lives… What if I'm not enough? I wasn't enough for Blair to stay with Chuck. I wasn't enough for either one of them, how can I be now?_

_I'm letting them have me, take me for themselves to ease their guilt. It's guilt. They said so themselves, they want to make up for what they did. They don't want kids, they shouldn't have kids, they're just taking me back for their peace of mind. Once that's gone, they'll find a way to get rid of me. _

"The thing is that…" Charlie begins, her voice cracking as she averts her gaze from the two guilt-stricken adults. Charlie feels the lump in her throat. How could she do this? All she's ever wanted was a family. All she wanted was a mom and a dad. Now she could have one and she didn't want it.

"I just don't think this is such a good fit." Blair and Chuck's eyes fall drastically. They thought that a tear-jerking speech and apology would be enough. But an apology, no matter how genuine, could never substitute for 16 years of abandonment. Charlie pushers strands of hair away from her face, stiffly holding up her right hand from her waist and waving once. They get the message; she wants them to leave. When they don't move, both trying to find a way to have her, Charlie shoves between the two of them and walks down the sidewalk, not looking back. If she did, she'd see something no one ever did;

Chuck Bass shed a tear

--

The rejected parents sit together at the over-the-top living room of Blair's penthouse. A thoughtful Chuck with a glass of scotch on the rocks firmly locked in his grip as he sat behind the Waldorf's family piano in silence, taking slow sips of the drink. Blair, on the other hand, continues to sip on straight up dry Bellini as she flips through re-runs of her show sent to her by her manager after every show.

They don't bother talking. They don't have to. Charlotte Hall, their daughter, didn't want them. Neither one could blame her, of course. They were delusional to believe that one Breakfast at Tiffany's-eque speech would be enough to lure their daughter away from forever hating them.

In all honesty, Chuck loves the silence. He loves his world silent, where he could be happy and peaceful and not have to be surrounded by the noise that comes with drama. But now, he longs for the sound of soccer balls being kicked and little girls trying on their mom's shoes.

_I guess I never realized how much I wanted a family. _Chuck thinks. Wasn't that how it always was with Chuck? He waits for things to disappear before he chases after it. _All my life I ran from responsibility, from having to commit to someone. I ran and I ran until there was no more running. Now everything's catching up with me. _He looks over at Blair, who thoughtfully watches the re-runs.

_You, me and Charlie should've been a family. It wasn't in the plan, way back then, for you to get pregnant. But isn't that how it should've worked? They would have a child and get married?_

_But I never wanted that. _Chuck considers again. _Maybe I don't want to have to marry Blair… I loved her, I still do a bit, but maybe we were never supposed to be together… But couldn't we still be a family? Family isn't one size that fits all. It wasn't always a mom, a dad, kids and a dog. It could've been your deceased father's wife, that wife's kids, that wife's step kids and your deceased father's step kids. It worked for them, didn't it? _

_I was never one for tradition, but I do want a family. I do want someone to go home to, someone to take care of. Serena and Nate, Humphrey and Vanessa, they don't know how fortunate they are. They have a family… Nate was right, he always was. I wanted to be free that I never realized the trap I made for myself._

"We didn't deserve her." Blair says, dolefully through the sound of TV Blair.

"What we did was wrong… We should have never let her go." Chuck inhales deeply, unaware of what he should say. He uses his thumb to rub his jaw, a mannerism he has developed over the many years.

"Blair… I…" Chuck begins, picking his words carefully as the brunette's doe eyes turn to him in curiosity.

"I really…" The Bass patriarch attempts again but his words die on the ground. He downs his drink in one gulp and lets the alcohol process through his body.

"I just want to say that… I really am sorry…" Blair nods, taking in the apology.

"For everything." He adds, and Blair knows what he meant.

He loved Blair, he really did. That Blair and Chuck knew. There was no denying just how much he cared for the gorgeous brunette that would be the only character he'd ever see. But it wasn't that of which Chuck was sorry. He was sorry he didn't love her enough to change, enough to give himself to her. No one would ever understand what that meant, seeing as how Blair was everything to Chuck Bass. But Blair did. Chuck was a narcissist, he loves himself too much. He loves himself more than he could love anyone else. Chuck's sorry he couldn't have loved her enough and everything else that followed.

"I am too." Blair replies honestly.

Neither one didn't have to explain, they both already knew. All the loose strings of their past have received closure. Not to say that either one has really forgiven the other, but they were one step closer. For that night, that was good enough.

The elevator doors slide to open. This catches both of their attentions. In the elevator stood Charlie Hall (supposedly Bass), bags in hand and a casual expression on her face. She walks in, looking around the lush and sophisticated surroundings as if she were in space. It was a change from the Bronx. A change indeed. They both stand up, watching their daughter as if she were to disappear in front of their very eyes.

"I…" Charlie begins. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say." She follows in a defeated monotone voice.

"But I… I wanted to let both of you know that…" A faint smile crosses her face.

"I'm allergic to nuts, so if you ever decide to bring ice cream or a squirrel home I'd probably seize or something." She says, her voice not betraying anything but genuine casualness. Charlie giggles, and Chuck can't help but laugh at her contagious laughter in unison.

"So does this mean…" Blair trails off. Charlie nods once.

--

"Dorota!" Blair stops herself, looking over at Charlie who ate as she fingered her scarf, a scarf she knitted herself, as she shared a drink with her biological father. Blair glares at Chuck, who concedes and takes the glass away under Blair's gaze. When Blair turns her back he hands it back to her.

"Yes, Miss Blair?" Dorota inquires, looking over at the teenage girl drinking scotch with Chuck Bass. Blair looks back at them.

"CHUCK!" Snaps Blair.

"It's a drink, it's not like she hasn't had one before." He reminds her

"She's under 21." Reminds Blair

"And so were you when you started ordering Bellinis and dry martinis. Besides, Basses aren't Basses if they don't like scotch." Blair feels the corners of her lips tug as a small smile crept its way to her face.

"Miss Blair, who is she?" Dorota asks, peering at the sight. Suddenly there's a full smile plastered on Blair's face.

"Dorota, clean up the guest ro-… I meant, clean up _Charlie's _room."

"Miss Blair?"

"Charlie is staying here from now on."

"Who is Charlie?"

"Our daughter." Chuck and Blair answer in unison. Dorota's eyes travel to the back of her head as she faints unconsciously.

--

**Author's note: Well? What do you think? I enjoyed writing this chapter. So much drama between Chuck and Blair it makes me want to squeal! Any suggestions as to what should happen next? I am planning on Charlie being sent to Constance and Chuck and Blair dealing with Charie's issues (insomnia and trauma). REVIEW! You know I love reviews!**


	5. Charlie and the New York Society

A loud shrill of laughter rang through the hallways of the Waldorf penthouse. Charlie's eyes instantly open, alert. She sits up, her arms shuddering at the coldness of the silk sheets. She wonders how anyone could sleep with silk sheets. They were cold, made you hair stick up and was too sheer to keep you warm. Charlie secretly longs for the comforting feel of plain cotton. Or anything that didn't feel like silk, really.

She tears off the comforter and leaps out of bed, her bare feet colliding with the marble floor. She reaches into her bag, ruffling through her soap from the dollar store and jeans from garage sales, to reach for her discarded bra. She hooks it on her waist, let her arms go into her shirt, slid the straps on and stretched her arms back on her shirt.

It was a habit of hers, never leaving a room without her bra. In fact, she hated being naked, even in the shower. The last time she let her guard down, she finds herself shoved up a wall. The last time she let her guard down she lay defenseless on the ground as her ex-foster parent entered her, despite the lack of consent on her part. A shudder runs down Charlie's spine.

"Don't think about it." She wills herself in a deathly whispers. To distract herself she walks towards the mirror, elegantly embodied in a rich Victorian frame.

As per usual her thick mane of chestnut brown locks fell down all the way to her waist. It covers her ears which illuminates her pale snow white skin even more. The long lost daughter of Blair and Chuck was tall, about as tall as her 'father' without high heels. She was slender, like those girls from the remake of 90210. _Hopefully no one thinks I'm some insecure anorexic sociopath_. She thinks wryly to herself.

As she grew up moving from one poor foster home to another the food was always scarce. From then on, she learned to only need a little bit of food.

_I look like a corpse_. She thinks in slight scrutiny. Charlie's long slender legs look even longer because of her boxer shorts. Unlike Blair, she had long toned arms and broad shoulders. She uses her fingers to brush thought her hair, smoothing out any tangles that may be caught in her hair.

"Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf? Mom and Dad? Don't you know how preposterous that is?" Charlie hears an unfamiliar voice screech from the living room. Out of growing curiosity she ran to the bathroom, where she splashed water on her face and rubber her eyes. She took out a toothbrush and quickly ran the brush through her teeth five times before she spit. She wipes her face and walks out of the bathroom, into the bedroom and out into the hallway. The voices got louder and Charlie knew she was closer.

"Serena, what is so wrong with us wanting to keep _our _daughter?" She hears Blair's voice snap. Charlie bends down and takes a peek from the balcony. She can see the talk show host standing up, dressed elegantly in a ruby red dress. Charlie recognizes the gorgeous blonde from yesterday. Beside her stood a Greek God like man with the same baffled look on his face, his arms crossed as he tried desperately to talk to the eve-stubborn Chuck and Blair.

_That's the congressman! That's Nate Archibald! Which means, OH MY GOD! That's Serena Van Der Woodsen, the model! T-they're friends with them! _Until now Charlie never realized just how privileged Chuck and Blair were. The were rich, that Charlie knew, but she never realized they were _that _important.

"Blair, there is nothing _wrong _with that!" Serena reminds Blair

"Then why do you look like…" Blair stops herself. Serena glares at Blair accusingly.

"Like what" The platinum blonde demands for a response.

"Like you don't believe in us." The brunette responds.

"Blair, can you blame us?" Nate interrupts Blair, his voice more rational than Serena's. Chuck, who stood beside Blair with the same dignified air to himself, turns to his childhood best friend.

"Yes." Chuck answers "All you've _ever _did to me since Blair and I broke up years ago was point out all my flaws. All you two ever did was rub your perfect Upper East Side family persona to our faces. You said that you wanted me to grow up! Well here you go! I'm growing up, aren't I?" Chuck accuses, an edge to his voice.

"Chuck being a grown up is about taking responsibility for your actions." Retorts Nate.

"Isn't that what we're doing? Charlie is _our _responsibility!" Blair pipes in, offended.

"Sometimes responsibility is knowing _when _you can't handle it!" Serena cuts Blair off. "Blair, you can't do this." Serena's tone is softer, more rational than it was before. This almost softens Blair up. Almost.

"Yes I can." Blair says with unwavering confidence.

"No, you can't. Neither one of you can. You have a daughter, you realize that? You realize that you are not liable for someone than yourselves? Do you see the magnitude of your decision? You're Chuck and Blair, two of the most immature and irresponsible people we know!" The Archibald congressman points out to both of them, in hopes of saving them from this mistake.

"Nate, Blair and I don't have it all figured out yet. We don't know if we're going to be good at this, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? But that _doesn't _mean that we're not going to try…" Chuck shakes his head. "Charlie has been through a hell of a lot more than Blair and I and you and Serena have ever been through… Look, I know that I don't really have credit for being a good man, or even a good person. But I damn well know that when I want something, I get it. And I want to do this. I want to be a family to Charlie, to Blair."

It was the first time anyone, Blair, Serena or Nate, has ever heard such determination in Chuck's voice. He was committed to Charlie, something he has never fully been to anyone. He was going to fight for Charlie.

"Ahem," Interrupts Charlie, and instantly all sets of eyes land on the petite blonde. Serena and Nate stare in utter amazement as Charlie descends the stairs, skipping as she does. Serena blinks, trying to differentiate teenage Blair Waldorf and Charlotte Hall.

The difference was, Serena observed, that Blair was more poised. Blair was more regal, more stiff. Charlie was a much more casual, less thought out. She moved by habit, adapting to her surroundings as she has for years. Charlie was custom to change, Blair knew not of change if it hit her smack on the head.

"Hi," Blair is the first to react, pushing past her ex-boyfriends towards Charlie.

"Hi," Answers Charlie timidly as she eyes the leggy blonde and the blue eyed man discreetly.

"How was your sleep?" Blair raises her eyebrows, indicating there was more to it than met the eye.

"Fine." Charlie answers honestly. Her emerald orbs drift towards Serena and Nate, with Serena turning away awkwardly as Nate gapes at Charlie in utter amazement. Nate's eyes stared at the uncanny resemblance between Blair and Charlie. The long chestnut brown hair, the high cheekbones. Nate even notices that their fingers, long and slender, were identical.

"Hi." Nate greets her, stumbling on his words.

"Hi," Charlie replies, albeit hesitantly, before turning to her biological parents.

"Charlie, I need a favor." Blair begins slowly and calmly, only to be interrupted by Serena's adamant glare.

"Blair, honestly?" The bellowing blond snaps.

"There's this brunch… This very very important brunch at the Palace." The famous talk show host turns to Chuck for support.

"A brunch that we hold once a year." Chuck continues.

"And the thing is… We need to go." Blair points out. Charlie shrugged nonchalantly, crossing her arms in careless ambivalence.

"It's fine. I can stay here for awhile." The gorgeous brunette appeases. Chuck and Blair look at each other, then towards Nate and Serena who watched on the scene.

"That's not really what we we're going to ask you, Charlotte." Charlie flinches at her full name.

"We're asking if you… Come, to the brunch" Says Chuck

"Wait, how _big _is this brunch?"

--

The naturally beautiful Charlie Bass stood amid the 'On Being Blair's' make up artists, her once sparkling green eyes wide with uncharacteristic fear. Charlie's back was held up to the door, her head shaking frantically as she tugged hard on the doorknob in absolute terror.

"BLAIR! YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!" Comes the shrill voice of Charlie, as she glanced towards the beauticians who were all trying to sedate the young foster daughter. Charlie turns her head to the door, trying desperately to yank the door open.

"I thought you said it was fine." Replies Blair's easy voice.

"I said I'd _go! _I _never _said I would be subject to an extreme makeover! T-this is n-not happening, do you hear me?" Retorts Charlie.

"Charlie, what is so wrong with putting make up on?" Blair's sentence is cut off when she hears a loud splash of water from the other end of the door, her eyes narrowing in mild confusion and suspicion.

"Charlie… What's going on?"

"LET GO OF ME YOU PYSCHO BITCH! I AM PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF BATHING MYSELF!" The loud protest of Charlie was so loud it could've rang through the entire New York area. Blair sat beside Chuck, who raises his eyebrows.

"Is that what you women go through to achieve beauty?" He inquires

"Chuck, every Upper East Side girl has beauticians at her beck and call, our daughter should have the same." Blair says, looking up from her cell phone to Chuck's face. His face, clouded with softness and tenderness, caught Blair off guard. He plops himself on the seat across from her, his eyes filled with delight.

"What?" Snaps Blair, an irritated glare falling on her face.

"_Our daughter_." Repeats Chuck slowly, his voice hoarse. Blair noticed that his face was filled with the look that of a man who sees his child for the first time. There was disbelief, a bit of unknown nostalgia, and the feel of not being worthy. Blair had the same face years ago. She never knew she'd see it again, and especially on the womanizing Chuck Bass'.

Blair smiles her tiny smile, making Chuck smile in return.

"WHAT IS THAT?... A SPECIAL FORMULA TO REDUCE TANGELS AND CLEANSE THE SCALP? THAT'S SHAMPOO YOU DUMBASS!" Blair and Chuck's moment was interrupted with another one of Charlie's loud screams. More splashes of water fill both their ears.

"H-hey! Don't touch me!... I don't care if I'm dirty! I can sure as hell scrub my own ass!... B-blair! This isn't the 1800s! S-surely you can't expect me to be bathed by… _Beauticians_." Blair and Chuck noted that the last word had a bit of mockery in it, as a result to the specialist ladies to huff in indignation.

"Every girl on the Upper East Side has it done." Blair says calmly.

"B-but… H-hey, don't touch my bloody arse!" Both Chuck and Blair glance at each other. Since when did their daughter have a British accent. They hear incoherent mumbling, followed by Charlie's loud shrill voice.

"Yes, I do bloody have a freakin' English accent when I want to! Sod off!" There's silence and then all of the 'On Being Blair' beauticians screamed.

"GET HER!"

"CRAZY BITCHES GET AWAY FROM ME!"

--

"No" Charlie snaps defiantly, her voice seething with frustration and malevolence as she gives an outfit one of the beauticians pulled out a sneer. Blair, trying to hide her annoyance for her daughter, shakes her head at her beauticians and gestures them to pick out a different one.

"Charlie…" Blair tries to sound soothing. It just comes out whiny. The elder Waldorf takes a seat beside Charlie, who was seated on the bed with the robe covering her petite form

"Blair, I have been bathed, scrubbed, tossed, poked and have been slapped on with this girly crap for the past _two _hours." Charlie exasperates. "It's just breakfast, why do I need to get all this done?" The foster child gestures to her hair that her beauticians unnecessarily curled and the thick make up that, for other girls, would have seemed casual.

"Charlie, I don't think I've implanted just how… Different it is on the Upper East Side." The famous talk show's voice tried to be as patient as possible, but she was never good with people who didn't understand her world. Even Dan Humphrey pissed her off by being so different from who she was. That was something about Blair Waldorf that everyone knew; she hated those who were different from her. She hates those who don't see things like hygiene, politics, beauty and grace like she does. Blair secretly wonder if she'll ever care about Charlie because of these palpable differences.

"One mistake, one wrong glance at the wrong person will humiliate you and your family." Charlie looks up at her and blinks.

"Who cares what they think?" She asks with genuine confusion

"Charlie, think of the Upper East Side as a Tudor kingdom under the rule of a Catholic Spanish queen, Like Queen Katherine of Argon." Blair continues, referring to The Other Boleyn girl novel she read on her trip to Paris. "The values of the kingdom revolve around propriety, class, grace and social acceptance. There is no room for mistakes at court." Blair hopes Charlie never read it. She might've realized the last line was quoted from the book. Blair was never that good with thought provoking words.

"And so? Who said this 'kingdom' involves me?" Charlie makes air quotes with her fingers, her eyebrows raised as she looks at Blair with utter bewilderment.

"I'm not royalty. _Please! _Me? A soft-spoken celebutante with no goals but to either be a socialite or Mary Sunshine? How archaic can this Upper East Side society get!" Mocks Charlie, sneering at the thought of her becoming another one of these trust fund babies.

_She better not as hell assume that I'm going to be like these trust fund babies! I'M NOT! I'm Charlie Hall… Okay, Bass now but that's beside the point! The point is that I am the clumsiest, least sophisticated person you'll ever meet! _Charlie manages to catch a glance of Blair's offended face and suddenly, Charlie's face drops as well. _Of course… How could I have not realized that Blair was the exact stereotype of women I detest. _

"I know you don't see it like I do but… But this is just how things work around here." Blair finishes simply, trying to ignore Charlie's both confused and hurt face. _When was it that we agreed I'd stop being me and start being who you want me to be? I barely know you! You gave me up! You never loved me! When was it that you started calling the shots!_

"Charlie, I wouldn't ask this if I didn't have to… It's just… They say that you bring your family to these events, all the UES events really and… _You _are a part of this family now." A smile tugs on the corners of Charlie's lips, her teeth shimmering through. Blair returns the grin.

"It's just… I look horrible!" Blair looks at her, confused at how she could possibly think that. Here Charlie was, tall and thin with eyes so captivating and lips so luscious she could seduce anyone with one glance. Her features were soft and symmetrical, with a hint of mystery and complexity. The older brunette scoffs to herself. Somehow, in Blair's eyes at least, not even women as stunning as Serena could compare to the beauty of Charlie.

"Charlie… You look _beautiful._" Blair persuades. Charlie scoffs derisively.

"Yeah, okay." Blair grabs Charlie's arms, forcing her to stand up and walk over to the mirror to examine herself . Charlie is about to turn and give Blair one of her patented death glare, but then she saw herself and couldn't help but stop.

_I-I'm g-gorgeous! _Charlie says in shock. She never thought she was beautiful, she always thought of herself as plain, maybe even a bit ugly. Maybe it was because she didn't like looking in the mirror. Of course she would, but for the most part is scares the hell out of her. She fears she might see just how sad and pathetic she is. The thought that she would realize it scares her too.

Charlie blinks in utter disbelief, her jaw dropping to the floor as she gapes at her reflection. From the reflection the gorgeous brunette could see the beauticians looking on, their eyes full of admiration and pride. Then the foster child sees the dress Blair picked out, and instantly she turns around.

"What about this one?" Blair gestures to an Eleanor Waldorf original dress. The dress was beautifully cut right above the knee. The color was ivory and the material was pure silk. It was strapless, with a fluffy collar that gave off that Upper East Side bred woman look.

"I-I c-can never pull t-that off…" Stutters Charlie, though her gaze remains transfixed on the expensive dress Blair had sent over from her mother's fashion house that very morning. The Constance Billard alumni turns over to Charlie, the dress held up to Charlie's view

"Charlie," Blair muses soothingly, slowly walking towards Charlie. "I don't think you've come to realize how… Beautiful you really are." Charlie is about to protest.

"Beauty is about confidence. Fashion is about beauty. Charlie, you have no idea how envious you'd make any girl on the Upper East Side dressed in a cardboard box! Imagine if you actually tried to appear much more put-together and classic." Charlie sighs impatiently.

"Blair, I'm not you. I don't belong to this so-called society! I grew up in the Bronx! I don't know my arse from my arsenal." Blair raises an elegant eyebrow at the hint of an English accent that slips out of Charlie's lips.

"I once lived with this Euro-trash lesbians when I was eight and learning to enunciate things. Ever since then I had a bit of an English accent that slips out every so often." The Waldorf-Bass spawn elaborates. Blair smirks, holding the dress out to Charlie.

"Charlie, stop trying to hide your light." Says the Waldorf daughter. "You belong here now, Charlie. Don't let anyone ever think you're less than what you're worth. And trust me, you're worth more than just a pair of jeans and a T-shirt." Blair offers Charlie a comforting smile which she returns, reaching out to the dress.

_Maybe things were turning around._

--

Riley and Rhyze Archibald, born twins, raised companions, and turned rivals. Perhaps it was their ever-lasting comparisons that got the better of the two good looking brothers. As twins, they were subject to comparisons on a regular basis. It was always who was better, who was smarter and who would prevail if they ever decided to compete.

Growing up, they were best friends, always telling each other secrets and playing football. Riley was always loud and expressive, Rhyze was always introverted and appropriate. Somehow their completely contradicting personalities are what made them great friends when they were younger. Riley manages to charm the people surrounding them with his classic looks and kind personality, though he was rather immature and prone to mischief.

Riley was like Peter Pan, kind but disingenuous. The thing with Riley was that he didn't bother hiding whatever flaws he had, he gladly let it shine for everyone to see. Riley Archibald was flawed, and yet he carries his flaws with pride. This pride is what makes him so likeable. Riley is a good boy. Riley loves mediocrity and simplicity. It was who he was.

Rhyze, on the other hand, was a completely different case. He was refined, sophisticated and has mind-blowing intelligence. He projects his perfect persona that often got the better of everyone. He hides his manipulative, self-absorbed and cunning personality. He was quieter, shyer, and much more self-conscious than the glowing Riley.

Yes, they were different, and when they were kids it worked perfectly. Riley was able to make up for what Rhyze couldn't, and Rhyze could make up for what Riley couldn't. Riley was able to fulfill the kind and lovable half, whereas Rhyze took on the intellectual and mannered expectations of their society.

But as they grew older, the rivalry began. Suddenly no one cared that Riley was kind but rather dense, or that Rhyze was over-thinking but sensitive. In the end, it only mattered who the better twin was. Between the two, it was really Rhyze who was competitive. He would often find some way to humiliate his twin brother, the man who was meant to be his ally through the ups and downs of life. But it's never that simple.

Then there's Riley, who continues to be ambivalent and apathetic towards the whole 'rivalry' that has been set up for them. Despite Rhyze's cold demeanor he still manages to trust his older brother. Rhyze forgave, the other held grudges. They were opposites.

"Riley!" Hisses Rhyze under his breathe as he and his younger twin stood near the open bar of the Bass' annual brunch for another one of their many charities. Riley's blue-green orbs look up at his brother's, his eyebrows scrunched up in question.

"The drink." Rhyze points out to the champagne flute Riley held in his hands. Riley scoffs derisively, averting his gaze from his brothers.

"I'm serious." The more proper and smarter twins snaps, a heated glare shining through his eyes.

"What's the big deal?" Inquire Riley, seemingly unaware of the scandal it could bestow upon his parents.

"Father has been grooming _us _to be part of his political campaign. How do you think our father will manage his campaign for _harsher punishments on minors _to be taken seriously when his own son is drinking illegally?" Snaps Rhyze condescendingly, turning away from Riley to examine the group. Behind him, Riley mocks his face with annoyance before downing what is left of his drink.

"There, it's gone." Riley says simply, grinning ear-to-ear.

"_You _disgust me." Snaps Rhyze.

"Thank you." Riley replies

Surrounding the two is the regular crowd. The crème of the crop, the highest on the social hierarchy scale. The twins are surrounded by most of their Saint Judes companions, including the older Derrek Humphrey, son of Vanessa and Dan Humphrey. He is with by his younger sister Lorraine who, in turn, is probably one of the most popular mini-socialites in the park.

Surrounding Lorraine Humphrey are her most loyal Constance Billard companions; Elizabeth Humphrey-Wales, her cousin and very best friend, Brooke Baizen, a beautiful red-head and spawn of bachelor Carter Baizen, and their newest lackie; Reese Archibald.

Then there were the men, 'the brotherhood' as they like to call themselves consisting of Derrek Humphrey, the Archibald twins, Penn Sparks, son of airline heiress Georgina Sparks, along with Anton Humphrey-Wales, brother of Elizabeth. They were all best friends, each one with a special relationship with the other. Everyone often celebrates their friendship, thinking of it as a sign of maturity towards the male sex in Saint Judes.

"Lorraine looks so hot." Riley says, his eyes landing on Lorraine Humphrey as she stands beside Elizabeth and Brooke, a grin meant for US Weekly sitting on her face. Like both of her parents, Lorraine was a raven-haired beauty with skin tanner than her brother's. Lorraine was clad in a blue J. Humphrey V-neck dress that looks more appropriate for a night at Monkey Bar rather than a conservative brunch with New York's moguls and entrepreneur.

Rhyze shrugs nonchalantly, glancing at Lorraine with mild curiosity before drifting back to boredom, not that he let it show. He returns to his disinterested demeanor, which annoys Riley even more.

"Doesn't she?" Presses Riley, his sparkling blue green orbs looking over to Rhyze, who does nothing but shrug again.

"Well, I think she does… God, why did I break up with her again?" He inquires, trying to remember exactly why. _He obviously doesn't remember that she broke up with him because I slept with her the night before our birthday. _Muses Rhyze, chuckling in silent malevolence as his brother tries to remember.

"I think it was because she was sleeping with some Dalton freshman during our birthday." Answers Rhyze, leaving out the part where he seduces Lorraine with a bottle of tequila and promises for the world. There is no need for Riley to know all the schemes Rhyze plots against his brother. He glances towards Riley who, in regular Riley Archibald fashion, let his hurt feelings flash through his eyes.

The twins always looked the same, and therefore require to be clad in different colored suites and accessories to distinguish the difference. Rhyze would often wear black or grey suits and tuxes, and a black leather trench coat and scarf. Riley, on the other hand, would either wear light brown or white suits and tuxes, with a light brown coat as his only way to look different from his identical twin.

But the eyes, oh those blue green eyes that startle anyone who gets a good enough look. Only someone with high skill in reading both twins would ever see the difference. The kinder twin, Riley, wore his emotions through his eyes. His eyes would drift from childish to sad to joyful in blinks. You could feel his emotions through those orbs. As for Rhyze, well, he prefers not to let any emotion but pseudo kindness and death glares.

"Oh… Right." Riley perceives, about to ask for another glass when their glowing mother and father approach them, eyes gleaming with a hint of suspicion towards both twins.

"Riley, Rhyze." Nate is the first to acknowledge his sons.

"Father," Rhyze replies, whereas Riley replies with an easy "Hey Dad,"

"I take it that both of you have held yourselves properly while your mother and I have been off taking care of some… Business." Nate continues, picking his words carefully. He glances at Serena, who nods pensively.

"Of course, I've been keeping Riley out of trouble." Riley shoots Rhyze an annoyed glance. Did Rhyze _always _have to treat him with contempt? Sure he was immature, a tad rebellious and annoying but he isn't all bad.

"That's good because after the recent scandal involving Riley seen smoking marijuana, we will need to do better to keep you in line." Nate says silently to avoid being heard.

Riley glances towards his mom, his eyes begging her to stop their accusations. Riley is his mother, and she knows more than anyone what it feels like to have past mistakes torment you ruthlessly.

"Nate, that's enough." Hisses Serena. "Riley has learned his lesson." She reminds her husband, her eyebrows raised at Nate. Nate's gaze softens, remembering that while he is the strict and organized congressman on the outside, he is still the lovable and slightly goofy father on the inside.

"I'm sorry, Rilez." The New York congressman apologizes sincerely, earning a small smile from his son.

"It's okay." Accepts Riley kindly.

"Okay," Serena leads Nate away from his two sons and head towards their seats, about to sit down when the arrival of three very infamous people startle them and everyone around them.

--

**Author's Note: In this chapter I've give you guys a glance of how Charlie really is and just what kind of world she's gotten herself into. Also, I've expanded on the Archibald twins. Love them? Like them? Think Charlie should have one of them or not? Anyway, I also wanted to give you guys a glance of the new people in Charlie's new life like Lorraine and her comrades. Don't know yet where her school life will go but as for Chuck and Blair, well, it's about to get interesting.**

**Please Review!**


	6. A Bass Girl Now

Chuck Bass looks warily over at Charlie, who hides her discomfort with an easy glance at the crowd and nonchalant shrug aimed towards Blair, who takes the tips of her fingers and tires to reach for Charlie's arms.

_Maybe this wasn't a good idea. _Chuck thinks silently, watching as Charlie slides off her coat and hands it to the doorman; her white cocktail dress appearing. It was surprising, Chuck thought, that with a simple dash of makeup and a brush ran through her hair she was able to transform from Bridge and Tunnel bastard to sophisticated young woman.

_Then again, she's a Waldorf-Bass, she's got elitist sadistic façade-wearing socialite in her blood. _Chuck's inner monologue is interrupted by Nate's echoing voice to his ears, making the Bass patriarch turn to his longtime best friend in annoyance. Nate's blonde tresses are gelled back, making him look like Cary Grant, much to the appreciation of the other socialites of the Upper East Side.

"I see you brought Charlie." Nate looks over at Charlie, who fidgets under the hot gaze of the banquet hall's occupants.

"Na-" Chuck's protest is interrupted by a man in a brown suit, recorder in hand.

"Mr. Bass, mind if I sneak in an interview?" He says quickly, pouncing on Chuck before the rest of the interviewers have a chance at snapping up the soon-to-be scandal on the Upper East Side.

"Yes, of course." Chuck obliges, his teeth gritted. He tears his gaze towards Charlie, who is left abandoned after Blair is trapped in a conversation with some of the matriarchs of some of the most prestigious (not to mention gossip-driven) families.

"I'll take care of it." Murmurs Nate, striding past the reporter and his womanizing best friend towards the Waldorf-Bass spawn. He smiles at Charlie, hoping his friendly face would ease her anxiety. Charlie looks at him, eyes still blazing with fright despite Nate's grin.

"Charlie, I'm Nate… I don't think we were properly introduced this morning." Nate is careful not to make any sudden movements, considering the way Charlie still fidgets uncontrollably.

"Hey," She acknowledges him.

"You look amazing." Charlie nods, as if she always had people say that to her. The congressman's gaze eyes Charlie's beautiful face, her slightly unhealthy physique and natural attractiveness. He changes his mind, she _does _hear it all the time.

"Look, Chuck and Blair are a bit caught up right now so why don't I introduce you around?" Nate points his head to the group of teenagers who conglomerated in the corner, eyes watching Charlie like a hawk.

"Uh…"

"It beats being stared at, trust me." Nate whispers to Charlie, leading her inside.

--

_You can do this, you can do this. You handled living with eight other kids, living in a broken down apartment building when you ran away and you dealt with what happened all those years ago. You did it, you managed to save yourself from all that unscratched. _Charlie thinks in panic, her heart pounding faster and faster in nervousness. She was never a shy girl, after all, at the ripe age of eight she'd take the bus from the Bronx all the way to Brooklyn alone. She learned how to advocate for herself. But she was never in a place where she had stop being herself and inhibit her complete opposite.

"Anyone catching your eye, Charlie?" The New York Congressman questions the young Waldorf-Bass spawn

"What?"

"You see Charlie, whenever I'm in some event or party where I don't know the people around me I choose whoever I think would make great company. So how 'bout it?" Charlie nods, pretending to be choosing someone when really, she is just trying to find herself some time.

"Well yes, but I don't know anyone here. Plus, appearances are deceiving." Says Charlie, stuttering uncomfortably.

"True," Nate considers.

"Maybe you can tell me about them. You seem to know everyone." Attempts Charlie

"Hmm…" Nate looks around.

"See the brunette in the white dress?" Charlie nods

"That's Elizabeth Humphrey-Wales. She spends her summers at the Hamptons, she speaks 3 different languages, she's a Gold-medalist in figure skating and she goes to Constance Billard, a prep school where most of the girls attend."

_3 different languages and a gold medal figure skater? Was this entire event made to make me look like a blundering idiot? _Nate takes in her insecure looks and scans the room for someone less accomplished.

Naturally, he crosses his driven son Rhyze out of the list of possible introduction. Maybe Nate should select someone far more normal, more down to earth. _Yes, because down-to-earth, unaccomplished trust fund babies are a dime a dozen on the UES._ Nate thinks derisively. Sadly, the thought of his son arises.

Even as a young child Riley was never an achiever. Sure, he maybe a great athlete he was never extraordinarily good at any sport. He had mediocre grades and often slacked in most of his classes. Sometimes, when Nate is alone, he thinks about his sons. About Rhyze and Riley Archibald, identical in appearances, foils in personality. Nate tries to make himself appreciate Rhyze more. He was never one for scandal or mischief, always the proper son in the house. Nate attempts to love Rhyze more than Riley, if only to give him what he rightfully deserves.

Yet somehow, it is always Riley who he feels more drawn to. No, it isn't about Riley's charm or athletic ability. It was his pure heart. Even as children, Nate was quick to recognize which one of the twins picked up the meaner, crueler half. And every time he tries and analyze it he always comes down to the same conclusion;

Rhyze was evil. Not in the stereotypical sense of loud cackling and plots of revenge, well maybe the revenge part, but in a much deeper sense. When Rhyze and Riley were younger, it was always Rhyze who'd outwit, outshine, and oust his brother in any situation. And, as Nate noticed despite his dense exterior, it was always when Riley threatens to disrupt Rhyze.

It is almost as if Rhyze chooses to be cunning whenever Riley was even close to successful or triumphing over the elder Archibald son. _He's the little brother, Rhyze shouldn't be on him that much._

"Riley," Charlie is about to turn to Nate in confusion when suddenly an extremely tall, handsome young man with the most penetrating of eyes stops in front of Nate and Charlie, his eyes turning to his father's in question.

"Yeah, dad?" Says the blonde eloquently

"Riley, this is Charlie." Riley's eyes instantly turn over to Charlie.

--

_Beautiful… Absolutely, without a doubt, beautiful… _

Is the first thing that pops into Riley's mind when his gaze averts to the brunette standing right beside his father. Such genuine feeling is expressed by the stunning brunette's eyes, emotion that Riley has never once found in any girl on the Upper East Side. All of them were too shallow or cold to ever show and perception of emotion. But this girl, this stranger, in fact, shows more of herself with a simple glance than Riley has ever seen in any relationship she's ever been in.

The difference is that, from her stature and her shining brunette locks swinging around her face unsteadily, it clearly comes to mind that she is not the extremely cocky and confident girl almost every Upper East Side girl is pushed to become. No, she's different. She's a breathe of fresh air, unique. Iridescent in the land of plain and boring colors.

_She's the one… She's the one for me. _Pops into Riley's mind. It's clear to him that Charlie is the girl for him. He may not know much about her, he may not even have anything in common with her! But, as he has seen with a simple flicker of her beautiful bright eyes, that she was different. Real. Genuine. Uncompromising. Complex. Just like him. Just like he always wanted in a girl.

"Hi." Riley chokes back, unaware of the dreamy and slightly nervous gleam in his eyes. He catches her eye, and instantly looks away.

"Hi," She replies with the same amount of anxiety.

"Hi," Riley repeats awkwardly

"Hi," Charlie says mockingly. Riley nervously looks around.

"I don't think we met before." Riley points out, bringing his eyes up to look at Charlie's beautiful face.

"NO!" Says Charlie, a high amount of sarcasm in her voice. Riley's drawn back.

"Sorry," Charlie apologizes, tucking loose hair to the back of her right ear.

"I'm just nervous… I-I've never been to one of these things before." Confesses Charlie, looking around at all the curious glances the stuffy party-goers were shooting towards her.

"A party? A room?" Riley says jokingly.

"No, more like a party on the Upper East Side." Replies Charlie.

"I saw you, walking in with Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf." Says the younger Archibald twin, looking over at the pre-occupied singles

"You know them?" He inquires.

"You can say that." Charlie says secretively, a glimmer of fun in her eyes. Riley grins.

"Well, if it's any help these things are usually a big bore… The food is good, though."

"I'm sorry, I'm annoying you, I'll go." Riley is about to walk away when he feels her grip on his arm, causing him to look back at her.

"No, you're not… I'm just nervous, that's all. Plus you're the only friendly person around here, from the looks of it." Riley cackles.

"What am I? Sloppy seconds?" He jokes.

She laughs.

"Riles, I see you've mustered up enough courage to talk to this beautiful specimen. Why, I didn't know you had it in you." Comes a voice from behind Riley. Instantly, his almost exact replica appears in front of the foster child. Unlike Riley, he remains clad in a black suit with his hair gelled back. Charlie's eyes widen. She's never met identical twins before.

"Well I do." Riley reprimands casually.

"Good afternoon, I'm Rhyze Nathaniel Van Der Woodsen-Archibald. Pleasure to make your acquaintance." He says charmingly to Charlie, eyes showing the same amount of politeness as the others.

Just when Rhyze is about to shake her hand, Charlie waves casually at him. Rhyze hides his embarrassment and annoyance with a chuckle.

"And you are?"

"Charlie," Riley answers for her, his eyes not drifting away from Charlie.

"I'm afraid I've never seen you in any of these events." Rhyze tries to make conversation.

"Yes, well, you probably wouldn't have seen me if I ran up the Met steps naked singing 'Ain't no mountain high enough'." Charlie jokes, instantly earning a loud, genuine laugh from Riley, much to Charlie's surprise. Rhyze stands stiffly beside his younger brother, unaware of whether or not it is polite to laugh at the joke.

"Nice." Riley compliments.

"Rhyze, Riley." Suddenly, out of nowhere, Penn Sparks and Derrek Humphrey and Anton Wales appear right beside the Archibald twins, eyes appreciating the gentle curves of Charlie's body. They look at her stunning face, height, and eye-catching rack with a high amount of interest.

"Hey, any chance we can steal these two for a second?" Questions a dark-haired boy with pale skin, gesturing over to Rhyze and Riley.

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Thanks doll." Says a boy, similar in appearance to Dan Humphrey. That's when she realizes he's his son.

They all drag the two away, leaving Charlie to fend for herself.

--

"Oh my god, she's here for five minutes and _already _she's got Riley Archibald wrapped around her finger!" Says Elizabeth Humphrey-Wales as she crosses her arms and observes the new addition to the stuffy and aristocratic crowd, eyes narrowing as she sees Rhyze Archibald send her one of his most charming grins. Beside her stands Lorraine Humphrey, who looks far more interested in finishing her salad rather than taking a glance at the gorgeous brunette. Elizabeth slinks back into her seat in realization.

"I don't see it." Pads Reese Archibald, her eyes lingering on Lorraine as if to find some sort of approval behind those cold brown eyes. The beautiful Archibald daughter averts her gaze to Elizabeth, hoping to receive the approval she so longs for. The approval everyone does. It has become a well known fact that the approving glance of one Lorraine Humphrey meant much more than sitting front row in _all _of the shows during Fashion Week. Up to this date the young freshman Reese could never quite understand why everyone longs for Lorraine's approval.

Maybe it's because of her high standard, her good taste in clothes and in men, or maybe it's simply because she happens to make everyone _believe _she's so important.

When Elizabeth shrugs nonchalantly, Reese bites down on her lip gloss covered lip as she plays around with the salad on her plate.

"Who is she, anyway?" Inquires Lorraine, not a single drop of venom to be found in her voice as she searches her cohort's eyes for an answer.

"I'm guessing we're about to find out." Brooke Baizen says in a clear deadpan, her fiery red hair swinging back as she nods towards the podium where Chuck stood, capturing everyone's attention without so much as a word slipping out of his mouth.

"Think she's his long lost love child?" Jokes Reese, glancing over at Lorraine. She looks for any traces of annoyance or despair, instead all she sees is a pair of black brown orbs. _How is it humanly possible that someone can show no emotions whatsoever? _Questions Reese internally. Somehow, her gaze turns over to Rhyze, who's standing right beside his father as they both tore away from a conversation with Skye Abbott. Reese asks the same question whenever she looks over at her older brother.

Even as children Reese avoids the eldest Archibald son like the plague. She is somehow always lost between trusting him with his polite and charming eyes or cowering in fear as he shoots her a silencing death glare that would make the infamous late Bart Bass cry in fright. Reese grew up with Rhyze Archibald, she knew more than anyone would ever know just how evil he truly is.

_It feels like I'm the only one who ever will._ Reese thinks, her mind floating to her mother, her father and even her own twin brother. Her Dad always chose to ignore Rhyze's unkind personality, much more inclined to carrying Rhyze around like a trophy to show off to his acquaintances. Serena, on the other hand, somehow didn't see it, somehow believing it was Rhyze being introverted. And Riley, oh poor dense Riley, could never suspect Rhyze of any wrong doing.

_Is it a twin thing? _Somehow that could be the only possible explanation to Riley always confiding in Rhyze about his secrets, his fears and his mistakes. How is it that Riley, who is really the victim in all of Rhyze's many schemes, didn't seem to be aware of Rhyze's plots? Did Riley choose to not see through his brother's lies? Or was Riley too disingenuous?

Reese is scared to believe that it could be the third option; that Riley just didn't know. That Rhyze is somehow amazing and enticing enough of an actor to fool Riley, who knows Rhyze more than anyone, into believing that he was nothing short of a kind and trusting elder brother. Oh, Reese prays it isn't the third option. Because if Rhyze can fool Riley the way he fools Upper East Side matriarchs, well, then there is really no hope in Riley ever seeing the truth Rhyze hid.

"Good afternoon everyone, I am tremendously pleased to see that most of you have been able to attend the annual Palace Hotel brunch." A round of polite applause fill the banquet hall. "Years ago, my father purchased this hotel. Bart Bass bought it with the first ever major income he had made off insurance of a devastating hotel fire. Never the less, my father thrived in creating his empire, choosing to buy out the cheapest hotel that is now one of the most expensive and well-known hotels in the New York area. Perhaps it was a bold risk made out of drunken stupor, or maybe it was him _knowing _that with his intelligence and natural skill, he could make the Palace hotel rise from the ashes and into a money making machine."

"We come here to commemorate the beginning of an empire… And to have some salmon aur dourves." Everyone chuckles.

Chuck hesitates for a second, looking over at Charlie, who stands awkwardly in the very back of the room, beside the waiters as she tries to hide herself from everyone's curious looks.

"I understand that _some _of you have been… Curious as to who this lovely young lady might be, as this event is usually plagued with only my closest friends and their families." Chuck avoids saying elite because, in all honesty, these are nothing but strangers to the Bass patriarch. He gestures towards Charlie, who stands up straight and forces a smile. Blair, who is staring at Chuck, her head shaking, looks back at Charlie.

"Charlotte, please." Chuck gestures for Charlie to come over to the stage, instantly making her cheeks turn crimson.

--

_He is NOT making me go up there! _Charlie thinks in frantic panic, hidden with an easy smile. Charlie, trying to avoid further humiliation, walks towards her biological father. She walks the same way Serena always does, her head bent down and hands swinging from side-to-side. It was both their ways of hiding their exceptional height and emotion.

Charlie feels their hot, critical gazes on her skin. She flushes in utter humiliation.

"Before I introduce her to you, I would like to introduce all of you to her." Chuck turns towards Charlie, a for-show smile on his face.

"Charlotte, these are some of my closest friends… To the back you'll see Nathaniel Archibald trying to figure out which of his twin sons is which." Somehow, the blunt and amusing delivery won the crowd over as they laugh at the joke. "Hopefully, he knows more about politics than he does about twin sons… Over there is Serena, I think you might know here. You can usually see amazons at the Met museum."

Serena laughs along, trying her best not to take offense is Chuck comment.

"Hm… Who else, ah, there's Carter Baizen… Nevermind." Chuck dismisses jokingly, though Charlie can tell he chooses not to be associated with the rough-faced man sitting beside his latest conquest. Carter laughs along merrily, and so does everyone else.

"I'd go through everyone but I think that by the time I finish I would've bored them to death, though Annalyze Mckay already looks like it to me." Chuck jokes, nodding over at the elder woman, who laughs.

"Now, everyone." All of them look back up at him in seriousness, anxiety on their faces.

"This is Charlotte Waldorf-Bass… Our daughter."

A loud gasp comes from everyone, all of them looking at one another in utter scandal. Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf? A daughter? Two of the most dysfunctional and notorious UES residents had a daughter?

Cameras went flashing, eyes widen, and somehow all Charlie could do is laugh mercilessly on stage.

--

"Blair! Blair!" Chuck yells after the Waldorf matriarch as she strides down the Palace Hotel lobby in outrage, eyes blazing as her Michael Kors silk dress sways in the same direction as her hips. She ignores him, rolling her eyes in annoyance. The Bass entrepreneur catches up with her and grasps her arm, turning her around to face him.

"We NEVER agreed in telling _anyone _about Charlie!" Snaps Blair, eyes narrowing in accusation.

"What did you expect me to do? Lie? That's your thing." Chuck snaps back in annoyance

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Oh come on, who's the one who didn't tell _me _about Charlie?"

"I thought you forgave me for that!"

"Forgive you? Blair, despite all the morally questionable things I've done I would have _never _lied to you under any circumstances!" Blair glares right into Chuck's eyes, ignoring the curious glances they were receiving from the inhabitants of the lobby.

"You know what? No, you don't get to pin this on me! Chuck, in what universe did you think that telling _everyone _about Charlie was a good idea? You do remember that I am famous, right? You do remember that this will affect my career that I have worked tremendously hard on?" Chuck scoffs derisively.

"Your career? What happened to 'we want to be your family'? Families don't deny their relationship with one another!" Chuck points out in response.

"Like you know anything about family. And besides, you're just saying that because this doesn't affect you… You're Chuck Bass, the biggest womanizing cad in New York! No one cares about your reputation or credibility, as far as _anyone _is concerned you can sleep with anything in a skirt since your Chuck Bass and you make a living off hotels, not your reputation! But what about me, Chuck? My reputation is the _only _think that's keeping me up and running! I can't have a scandal blow up in my face!" Blair rants, her voice high.

"You know very well that is _not _the point." The Saint Judes alumni reminds his ex-girlfriend. "The point is that one way or another someone is going to find out. I just sped up the process. Furthermore, we agreed to take Charlie in. That means massive exposure to paparazzi and the elite and all the things that come with being _our _daughter… Blair, this may not be 'perfect' but this is what's happening… I'm done defending my actions to make _our _daughter feel like she's part of our life. If you want to be mad at me for letting her in this world then fine, be mad, but when you decide to get over yourself and your petty issues then we'll revisit." Chuck explodes angrily at Blair

"Chuck? Blair?" They both look over to the voice, the voice that belongs to Charlie.

"Charlie, I'm sorry you had to hear that." Apologizes Blair quickly

"No, I get it… She's right… This is a mistake, I shouldn't be here." Blair's eyes widen

"No, Charlie, I'm wrong." Chuck's eyes land on Blair as she says this, shock written all over his face. It's rare that you hear Blair Waldorf admit she's wrong. Even rarer to hear her mean it.

"Chuck's right, you're part of our life now and if that means dealing with whatever comments people will throw to us then so be it." The beautiful brunette's emerald orbs looks back from Blair to Chuck, nodding as she starts to understand.

"Blair, Blair!" Yells the paparazzi from the outside, gaining all of their attention. Blair leads Charlie outside to where cameras flash as fast as iPhones are sold.

"Is it true? Is it true she's your daughter?" A reporter asks, holding a recorder up to Blair.

"Yes, she is."

"How'd this happen?"

Blair smirks.

"Broken condom."

They all laugh at the talks how host's witty response.

"Darling, what's your name?" They ask Charlie.

"I'm Charlie… Charlie Bass."

--

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long for me to post this up, I was trying to brainstorm what should happen next. I really like how this came out, we get some more insight on just how difficult it is to accept a new comer. You've gotten a closer look at the twins. Which one do you like better and why? I kind of take to Riley because he sounds a lot nicer but as the story goes on you'll start to see the real Rhyze. Review!

Any suggestions? Please tell me


	7. Of Brothers and Fathers

Reese Archibald, freshman at Constance Billard and daughter of congressman Nate Archibald, born into an aristocratic lifestyle, gasps in automatic shock at the revelation of the beautiful stranger to be the daughter of her Aunt Blair and Uncle Chuck. All this time she had thought of Chuck and Blair to be two independent people who aren't relevant to each other what so ever. She thought that they were just two people who happened to be friends with her mom and dad. She never thought that they had a relationship. Or a daughter for that matter.

"Looks like you were right, Reese." Says Lorraine Humphrey, chuckling at the irony of it all. She tucks a strand of curled raven-hair to the back of her ear, shaking her head in thought.

"I cannot believe it, can you believe it?" Elizabeth Wales says, more shocked than she ought to be. It is an unspoken rule of the Queen of the Upper East Side that betraying any emotion that seems degrading is strictly prohibited to her minions. Lorraine looks towards her cousin, shrugging nonchalantly as she peers around the corner to see if the brunette is coming back anytime soon.

"She's not coming to Constance, is she?" Questions Elizabeth, trying desperately hard to hide her concern. She saw how Rhyze looked at Charlotte Bass. She saw him undressing her with a simple glance. It's clear that in a matter of days little Charlotte Bass will have Rhyze hook, line and sinker. Somehow Elizabeth's question finally earns Lorraine's actual curiosity.

"Let's hope not." Mutters Lorraine, to the intense interest of red-head Brooke Baizen.

"What's that supposed to mean, exactly?" Inquires Brooke, smirking over at Lorraine.

"I'm just saying. It's obvious that she's not from around here, or anywhere else that makes her worthy of being here." Lorraine drawls, her stunning face turning to scoff at the thought of having an intrusive force penetrate the perfect bubble of the Upper East Side.

"What? You think she just popped out of nowhere?" Asks Lorraine's cousin, her perfectly plucked eyebrows raised.

"Precisely."

"Huh, long lost lovechild comes back to her biological parents in search for acceptance and truth in life?" Brooke says pensively. "Sounds like crap to me." Lorraine laughs, shaking her head. "Agreed."

"So you think they're sending her to Constance?" Presses Elizabeth, eyeing Brooke and Lorraine for their opinions.

"Who knows, probably?" Guesses Reese, entering the conversation

"Go find out." Lorraine says simply, nodding over to Reese's parents, who just came back into the room.

"What?"

"Oh come on, if anyone should know it's your parents." Exasperates Brooke, looking over at Reese

"They didn't even tell me about her." Reese points out.

"Right, well go find out anyway." Elizabeth pipes in, demanding that the young freshman do what she's told. Instantly, Reese looks over to Brooke. Despite Lorraine being the over all judge of any command given, she tends to always spare a glance at Brooke. True, Elizabeth is formally known as Lorraine's second-in-command, but somehow, if Reese were ever to stray away from them it would be Brooke's wrath she'd fear ever more.

As daughter to Carter Baizen, Brooke has quickly mastered the art of revenge. She's mastered it so well, in fact, that Reese notices how careful Lorraine is to even step in her way, if only out of fright as to what Brooke would do to her if she did. In the same way, it seems that Brooke didn't necessarily care about Lorraine's commands as much.

I guess that's why it's such a good thing that they both think alike. Despite Lorraine and Elizabeth being cousins because of Dan Humphrey and Jenny Humphrey-Wales respectively they both shared completely different personalities, similar to her elder twin brothers. Could it be that somehow any blood relation made two people complete opposites?

"Uh… Okay." Reese slides her seat back and stands up, hastily walking past her old friends Linsey and Bridgette, eyes to the ground, much to Lorraine's loud snort.

"Pathetic," Reese hears Lorraine say as she watches Reese intently. She turns crimson but continues to walk over to Serena and Nate, who were both standing beside each other.

"Mother, father." Reese addresses them formally.

"RL, hey…" Serena begins, smiling at Reese as she takes in her daughter's appearance.

"Mum,' Whispers the youngest Archibald child. "What was that?" Motions Reese to the stage.

"That was Chuck and Blair's daughter." Answers Serena warily, looking around as if it were some big secret.

"Look, I know that but… Why'd she just come out of nowhere?" Inquires Reese, looking over at Nate, who sighs.

"When Blair had Charlie… She… Well, she wasn't ready to be a mom." Reese gasps. She never believed people gasped before. Of course, that was until now.

"BLAIR GAVE HER UP!" Screeches Reese, instantly being hushed by Nate.

"She did, didn't she?" Serena nods.

"Yeah, RL, maybe you could keep your voice down." Riley Archibald comments, sliding into the conversation.

"Well maybe you should keep that thing in your pants down." Hisses Reese back sassily, rolling her eyes at her older brother who, most of the time, acts more immature than she does. Riley scoffs derisively.

"I can't say I'm not surprised that the second she comes into the room you come on her." As Riley says this Serena's eyes drift towards Riley, eyes widened. For some strange reason the supermodel's eyes avert to Dan Humphrey, who is entertaining his boss at the New York Times. Suddenly, Serena's return from exile, or boarding school as it was called, floats back into her mind. She remembers running away from Nate's arms and into the comforting Brooklyn arms of Dan Humphrey. She remembers how truly in love she believed she was. How she changed herself from drunken party girl into… Well, she couldn't really describe it.

Somehow she could see it happening all over again. The appearance of Charlie into their lives would change them, she foresees it happening. She now just really hopes that she'll be good for him.

"Riley, honestly?" Snaps Nate, eyes reprimanding his son.

"Dad… Come on, you're the one who introduced us!" Reminds Riley, eyes widening at the possibility of being yelled at. Again.

"No, no, you're right." Nate nods

"So is she going to Constance?" Presses Reese, looking over at her table where Elizabeth watches her intently.

"Yes, Chuck's enrolling her tomorrow… Dan!" Says Mistress Archibald, peering over Reese's shoulder to take a glimpse of Dan.

"Nate, Serena, hey." Dan greets them simply.

"Can you… Believe that would happen?" he looks back from Serena to Nate.

"Oh… You knew." Nate nods.

"Dan, I'd really love to talk but something tells me… B might need me." Serena moves past her blond children and her ex-boyfriend towards her best friend. That sounds like an episode of Grey's Anatomy. Serena thinks, whizzing past the guests until she comes face-to-face with Blair.

"Hey, what happened?" Inquires Serena

"Well… Everyone knows about Charlie and that I was a cruel mother who gave her up… But other than that nothing." Serena is just about to hug her sympathetically when Blair brushes her off.

"Maybe I should introduce her to some people, I know how… Left out she feels." Serena nods thoughtfully, looking down the hallway and taking a spare glance at Charlie, who is brushing lint off her dress.

"She can sit with Reese." Serena offers

"Huh?" Blair looks for the youngest Archibald around the room, before she sees the beautiful blond take a seat beside Brooke Baizen at their table, leaning over to inform them on whatever gossip she could have possibly dug up.

"Reese Archibald, Elizabeth Wales, Brooke Baizen and Lorraine Humphrey?" Blair raises her eyebrows. Somehow, Blair didn't think that it would make the best fit. Her obscure Bronx-spawned, practical daughter wouldn't mesh well with the high class socialites. Even if, somehow, Blair secretly wants her to. If only so she can see her daughter feel the comfort of being the highest of social hierarchy.

"Maybe not." Blair looks around the room for someone more down to earth. She instantly spots Riley, smiling goofily to his friends.

"Riley,"

Blair looks behind her and sees her long lost daughter and instantly grabs her arm, walking her down into the room.

"What are you doing?" Hisses Charlie, eyes widening as her mother takes her down the room.

"It's common tradition that the parents sit with their closest companions and their kids find their own seats… Now since you don't really have any friends around here, I'm guessing you should sit with…" Blair's sentence is cut off when she catches a glimpse of the handsome Archibald.

"Riley," Blair says

"No, Rhyze." Answers the blond, smiling charmingly, albeit coldly, at Blair.

"Well, Rhyze or Riley or whoever else, mind if Charlie take the spare seat?" Inquires Blair.

"Oh, yes, of course, we'd love to get to know Charlie." Rhyze replies, nodding over to his friends, who nod suggestively at Charlie. Charlie laugh nervously through gritted teeth. Beside her, Blair smiles politely at the boys, sparing a glance at Charlie. The last thing she wants is to make her teenage daughter hate her even more even after publicly outing her. Charlie hides her nervousness with a easy nod.

"B," Blair Waldorf whirls around to look down on her secretary, Tayla Fitzpatrick, a red head with nauseatingly big pores and a crooked nose. Never the less, she's one of the best secretaries in the business, which meant she is nothing short of qualified for Blair Waldorf.

"Barbra Walters is looking for you." Informs the red head to her superior. You'd think Barbra Walters would stop calling me a disgrace to day time talk show just because I don't go for her around the merry-go-round approach. Despite her contempt for the legendary talk show host she curtly nods at Tayla and walks over to Barbra.

--

Charlie slides into her seat quickly to avoid the curious stares she continues to receive from different members of the party, each one leaning to the other's ear to whisper some snobbish criticism about her appearance or her illegitimate status. Or maybe just that she looks awfully incompetent. One of the other. Charlie thinks miserably, looking around and seeing each person her age all talking to each other, each group looking more and more like cliques. And she was the outsider.

The foster girl wants to adjust her top. Its bellowing uncomfortably. Charlie's green eyes land on a beautiful tall blond, who's clad in a blue V-neck dress that ends high above her knee, showing off her broad shoulders and slender curves. She exhibited the amount of dreamy confidence that easily makes her a prime subject for low self-esteem. Charlie didn't know why, but already she could see from her icy gaze that it was more likely for hell to freeze over than for her to show a shed of genuine emotion.

The thought alone makes the thought of adjusting her dress disappear. Still, it's so uncomfortable! I feel like it's about to drip off! Charlie manages to catch a glimpse of her dress, which remains in perfect and tight position. Maybe it's just me, after all.

"Hey," The young brunette peeks over her right shoulder, emerald orbs meeting those of a more than regular handsome teenager with sunny blonde hair and enough natural charm to make Charlie feel a lot less nervous.

"Hi…" Replies Charlie. "Riley, right?" He chuckles.

"Rhyze Archibald, we met a while ago." Answers the blonde, earning a confused gaze from Charlie. Rhyze chuckles sexily, easily pulling the thick chair back and plopping himself down on it in the most sophisticated way Charlie has ever seen. How can he make sitting down look sexy and classy at the same time? Charlie asks herself eternally, her lips pursing together.

"Charlotte, right?" Charlie shakes her head frantically. Great, I look like a dog's tail wagging when it sees a ball.

"Charlie, just Charlie." Says Chuck and Blair's long lost spawn.

"Ah, Charlie… Well, you looked quite lonely here by yourself. Maybe you'd like to meet some of my friends, they're all just a little bit obnoxious and arrogant but other than that they're fair company to have around." Rhyze says smoothly, his voice coherent and civilized.

Charlie could tell from his choice of words, articulate speech, and confidence that the handsome blonde male is easily one of the most well bred characters Charlie has ever met in her lifetime. Somehow, Charlie doesn't think that pulling out a wise crack about just how amused and insecure his entire personality makes her feel.

"Are you sure? I don't really want you to bother." As Charlie says this, she grimaces. How the hell could she try to turn down the one opportunity to meet someone?

"Oh, but Charlie, nothing is ever a bother with me…" Rhyze looks at her, really looks at her, and he sees it. He sees exactly why this mystery girl has managed to catch his twin brother's eye in a matter of seconds. Given the fact that she is nothing short of breath-taking with her beautifully carves face and illuminating eyes, she also has what Riley wants most of all.

This girl, in the first few seconds Rhyze has spoken to her, is clearly different. She's different in the way she converses, in the way she carries herself and most importantly the way she sees things. The gorgeous brunette is nothing short of rough in a sea of diamonds… She's the only one who doesn't flaunt herself, oozing with destructive self-confidence. She is a real girl. A girl who's seen what no girl as even thought about seeing.

She sees the world for what it really is. This is exactly the type of girl Riley wants. A girl who offers the escape Riley so desperately longs for. Rhyze knows Riley inside and out. He also knows that all Riley ever wants is to stop being who he is. He wants to stop being the son of a congressman and a model, to stop being his twin brother, to stop being rich and glamorous and whatever else they were.

Riley doesn't want this world. And that's what makes him want Charlie. The fact that she is the world Riley wants to venture in.

Somehow, knowing this, Rhyze already knows he has to take her for himself.

"Well, if it isn't then… Sure, why not?" Agrees Charlie, smiling at him. The first of many. Rhyze thinks cockily. He stands up, and, like a proper gentleman, pulls Charlie's seat back for her. She stands up as well, eyes sparkling with a hint of embarrassment. Like a school girl losing her virginity for the first time.

He extends his arm for her and she takes it silently, as if making some derisive comment would make him disappear.

"Penn, Anton." The Archibald son calls after his cohorts, making both look over at him and Charlie. As they catch sight of Charlie draped in Rhyze's arms, already their eyes narrow towards Penn accusingly.

"Rhyze," Anton Humphrey-Wales hisses under his breathe, his head motioning towards Rhyze's identical twin brother accusingly. I guess it wasn't only me who saw Riley fall at Charlotte's feet. Rhyze ignores the two and looks charmingly back at Charlie, who's slipped away from his grasp and is now looking over her father longingly, begging that he come and save her from a social catastrophe.

"Charlotte, this is Penn Sparks and Anton Wales, they attend Saint Judes with me and… My brother." Rhyze adds his brother in last minute, as if to show that his brother isn't nearly as important as he is.

Charlie looks over at the two handsome strangers and smiles, though dismissively. They both give her a once over, smiling politely before their gazes avert to Rhyze.

"That's nice of you, helping Charlotte out." Penn says icily, eyes raised at Rhyze, who ignores him easily.

"I know, isn't it?"

"Charlotte, maybe you would like to get something to eat or drink?" Inquires Rhyze, eyebrows raised suggestively. Penn snorts derisively while Anton rolls his eyes.

"You can go ahead, I'll just talk to these guys for a bit." Says Rhyze dismissively, earning yet another snort from the illegitimate Sparks son. Rhyze shoots a quick on-set glare at Penn before nodding at Charlotte dismissively. Rhyze is perfectly aware of his sudden mood change in Charlotte's eyes. He's aware that he flickers from gentleman to rude. But that's how he's kept all the girls, by going hot and cold and always making them wonder.

The thing is that Charlie looks more relieved to stray away from the eldest Archibald son's company, something all three handsome boys notice in interest.

"Thanks," Says the brunette, straying away from Rhyze and his cohorts.

The first to speak is Penn, who scoffs irritably as he averts his gaze from Charlie's retreating figure to his sometimes-friend, Rhyze Archibald.

"What are you doing now?" Inquires Penn, judgment and scrutiny plastered on pale face.

"You saw Riley's face when he met her, you know he likes her, what's so wrong with letting him have someone for once?" Demands Anton in a whisper, eyes looking around the banquet hall.

Rhyze's gentleman like appearance and the true sadistic Rhyze transforms in front of Penn and Anton's very eyes. Rhyze lets out a derisive scoffs, eyes darkening in malevolence as he inches closer to his supposed friends.

"Anton, Penn, you're both acting ridiculous." Rhyze says simply. "I am merely making Charlotte feel welcome." Informs Rhyze.

"We both know you're trying to triumph over Riley. Again." Says Anton. Rhyze responds to Anton's vicious accusation with an easy smile.

"And, once again, both of you cast a poor image of me, your supposed friend and ally. My only concern is that my young and kind brother finds a lady suitable for him, and that lady is _certainly _not her." Says Rhyze coherently to the two. Anton and Penn shakes their heads disbelievingly at the aristocratic blonde.

"Rhyze, Anton and I _saw _you with Lorraine. We _know _you're the guy who slept with her." Hisses Penn

"We _also _know that _you're _the one who sold that picture of Rhyze taking marijuana to the press to hinder his chances of getting into a good college." Anton continues

"We've seen you scheme his downfall, execute it and jump in and steal Riley's thunder… We know you're ruthless." Somehow, the hurtful words didn't seem to even make Rhyze flicker. Instead, he does what he always does to Anton and Penn, turn the other cheek.

--

"Charlie," The brunette foster child whirls around to have Chuck Bass, hotel mogul, into view. He smiles warmly at her, the kind of smile that rarely appears of Chuck Bass' face. Somehow, Chuck easily became fond of the young beauty. She's him and Blair and herself. And somehow that makes Chuck like her way more.

"Hey," Acknowledges Charlie, a plate held to her hand as she looks at the food neatly stacked in piles. Chuck looks down at her plate's contents; five grapes, one piece of garlic bread and a chocolate coated strawberry. It doesn't occur to Chuck why he does it, but he grabs hold of the plate and hands it to the passing waiter. Then, with swiftness, he grabs a new one and fills it with a real meal. Steak with mashed potatoes, salad and assortment of fruits and deserts. Charlie's eyes widen like saucers.

"Holy crap! I can't finish that!" Reprimands Charlie.

"No, you will." Chuck replies simply. "Have you seen yourself? You're as skinny as a twig. And even with photos adding fifteen pounds you'll still looks like one. Do you even eat?" Rants Chuck, on and on again.

"Yea, but the last few foster homes had, like, one chicken leg for three kids to share, so yeah, I'm used to not gorging." Chuck halts, stunned. He's unaware of how to react to what she's said. He's never been good at comforting. Luckily, Charlie isn't one who looks for comfort. She takes the plate from his grasp and smiles warmly.

"But thanks for caring." She supplies awkwardly.

"Charlie, I know that I don't exactly have any credentials to go by with this… Father, thing, but I _really _hope you'll give me enough credit for where credit is due." Charlie nods at the entrepreneur.

"Charlie," Charlie looks away from her biological father to one of the male blond Archibalds.

"Rhyze, hey." Greets Charlie dryly. For some reason, Rhyze didn't imprint a good impression on the brunette. In fact, Charlie can tell that he is really only after her to annoy his brother. The foster child didn't know if it was his too-good-to-be-true charm or his rather devilish appearance, Charlie can tell that no good can come off someone that vial.

"Riley, actually." Corrects the younger twin, earning a mirthful genuine laugh from Charlie. Suddenly her uptight shoulders relax and she can breathe again. Somehow, Riley's warm and sunny face earns her instant anxiety-release. Riley sees his effect on her, and can't help but turn crimson as he bashfully, looks down at his shoes.

"Riley," Chuck interrupts them. "Before you go and flirtatiously charm Charlie to being nice to you, perhaps you can channel that charm to getting her to eat." Says the only Bass son to the younger Archibald twin. Riley nods reassuringly, picking up his own plate and filling it.

"Wait," Charlie turns to Chuck. "Thanks,"

"What?" Asks Chuck in bewilderment.

"For bringing me here. It's a far cry from privations, that's for sure. And I know I really hadn't said anything, but I really am grateful you guys took me in." Chuck halts and slowly looks up at Charlie. It was the very first time he's ever helped someone so tragic. It makes Chuck want to help her more.

"Think nothing of it." Is the only response Chuck can muster up in public. He walks away, shaking in shock.

"Chuck Bass? Your dad… I guess I should've noticed." Riley notes quietly. Charlie turns to Riley, eyebrows raised in question.

"The same jaw, the hoarse voice and even that habit of pursing your lips." Riley points out. Charlie chuckles.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think I was allowed to." Replies the brunette.

"And Blair Waldorf? Well… I guess I can see it in the shape of your eyes. They're kind of… Doe like." Concludes the platinum blonde.

"Ah, well I don't think you mentioned Nate Archibald was your dad."

"I didn't think it was important." Notes Riley.

"I didn't either." Replies Charlie.

"What about your eyes? They're green."

"I… Don't know." Riley's eyes drift towards Charlie, about to apologize when she shakes her head.

Charlie glances away from the blond male's sun-kissed face to glance over at the room, still whispering and staring at her. She can feel her knees buckle unwillingly, biting her lip nervously.

"I know how you feel." Riley points out

"Like a fish out of water? Like Goodwill rags surrounded by Chanel and Prada?" Riley scoffs jokingly "Uh… Goodwill?" He inquires silently, eyebrows raised

"Goodwill, the thrift store… Oh, right I'm talking to one of _your _kind."

"_My _kind?" Asks Riley

"Your type; the type who have credit cards and bottomless bank accounts, the ones with town cars and beach houses and penthouses and yachts. The ones who go to the best schools in America and don't have to worry about anything… You know, your type. The privileged ones, the lucky ones. The ones who grew up on the right side of the tracks." Answers the brunette insightfully, noting Riley's stunned impression.

It's rare he hears a girl say that with such contempt. It's rarer that it ever affects him. He's read enough books and newspapers to have some glimmer as to the life outside of the Upper East Side bubble. He knows there's much more to the wealth and perfection he and his family have achieved. Somewhere inside, the younger Archibald twin is perfectly aware of his how damn lucky he is.

And yes… _I don't feel lucky_. Sometimes, whenever he's alone, silently lying in bed, he thinks. He thinks about him, the things that come with being the son of wealthy and powerful parents. He knows he's lucky. The essential needs, the safety and even some of the undeniably great things he receives. Riley had what everyone else only wishes to have. But somehow he knows he doesn't want it. Riley knows it's not important to him.

The blond has always felt different, always out of place in the crowd. Yes, he knows how to act around those who matter but all he really wants is to escape the perfection that condemns him.

"We're not that fortunate." He points out. Charlie snorts derisively.

"Yes, you are." She retorts. "In fact, I'm betting you couldn't even survive _one day _away from your town cars and penthouses." Riley raises an eyebrow. Already he hears the semblance of a challenge in Charlie's voice. And already, the overly-competitive Riley feels the need to prove her wrong. If only to impress her and prove he's right.

"Is that a challenge I hear?" Riley inquires, turning her to gaze into his blue-green orbs.

"Maybe," Answers Charlie apathetically

"So that's what you think of me? A trustfund baby with no other insight on life?" Presses Riley

"Exactly,"

"How do I prove you wrong?"

Charlie halts, looking at him carefully. Indeed, he looks like he's been bred on the Upper East Side, with billions of dollars at his disposal. Yet, out of everyone here, he looks like the most down-to-earth one. Charlie edges closer to him.

"Follow me," She whispers ominously, eyebrows wagging as she gestures to the exit.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

--

**Author's Note: Alright, so I know that I am focusing a bit more on Charlie and Riley and Rhyze, but trust me, it will all relate back to Charile's relationship with Chair. **

**Next Chapter: Charlie takes Riley out on an adventure, Chuck and Blair fight about Charlie's living conditions and last name.**


	8. On the other side of the tracks

"Rhyze," Calls Serena Van Der Woodsen-Archibald as her eldest son passes by her, eyes glued to his Blackberry. The blonde's blue-green orbs look up at his mother curiously.

"Yes?" Asks Rhyze patiently

"Where's Riley?" At the question, Rhyze raises a confused eyebrow and looks around the party, which began to wrap up. Instantly, Rhyze's fingers dialed Riley's number, holding his finger up to silence his mother.

"I tried that. He _still _isn't answering." Rhyze continues calling. He knows his twin brother more than he knows himself. He knows that him not picking up his phone can be as simple as him going through another one of his legendary phases that seemed to make him alienate himself from his parents. Rhyze also knows that Riley would never do that to him, because he's Rhyze Archibald and he can simply make Riley run in circles.

"_Hey, this is Riley Archibald, I can't come to the phone right now but if you leave a message I'll get back to you."_

_He never has the nerve to not answer me when I call him…_ Thinks Rhyze, eyebrows fussed together in annoyance.

"Serena, have you seen him?" Nate Archibald asks his wife, eyes looking into her imploringly. Rhyze knows that look. He knows it too well. It's the same look Nate gives _him _every time he knows Riley's out damaging his reputation. Personally, Riley doesn't understand.

He doesn't understand why his mom and dad can adore Riley, placing him on a pedestal, and still expect the worst of him. _It's impossible that they love him for who he is, when they hate what being him does to them… _Rhyze sighs impatiently.

"I'm sure he just went home early or something." Serena tries pathetically to ease her husband's worries.

"Seriously? This is Riley we're talking about."

"So?" Snaps Serena.

"So," Nate begins mockingly at his bombshell wife. "That despite our love for him, he's still reckless and irresponsible." Serena scoffs

"For all you know he's just home."

"Because Riley Archibald is the type of guy who just hangs around the house?" Rhyze pipes in, earning an appreciative nod from Nate and an eyeroll from Serena.

"Serena, after the whole marijuana incident we all know that it's not the time to have page six covered of pictures of Riley drunk or high." Despite Serena's best intentions, Rhyze can tell she understands where he's coming from

"Fine, then what do you propose we do?"

"We could just wait, knowing Riley he just magically pops out of nowhere in a few hours… Or days." Rhyze thinks out loud. He remembers the many incidents his twin disappears for days without warning. Usually he would just take the private jet to California and sail for a week or two, before he'd finally come back to his family. That's Riley Archibald for you, reckless and passionate.

Nate groans, before he realizes something.

"Where's Charlie?" Serena's eyes widen

"Please don't tell me he and Charlie are…" Somehow, the supermodel couldn't simply say the inevitable. It's as if it was a taboo, an illicit word that goes against her religion or beliefs.

"They couldn't be." Rhyze says, a little more jealous that he meant it to come out. It already irritates him that Charlie seemed to avoid his advances, even more to know that Rhyze is already hooking up with the brunette.

--

"Chuck," Blair hollers at her once boyfriend, a look of rage smeared across the Waldorf's face. Beside Chuck is Eric Van Der Woodsen, who glances at Blair before biting his lip.

"I know that face… That face usually means collateral damage and broken limbs… That face is not your friend." Eric whispers quickly to Chuck's ear, watching as Blair approach them. Eric quickly walks away from Chuck, shaking his head, thanking the heavens he wasn't Chuck Bass.

"You think that after years of dealing with Blair Waldorf I don't already know that?" Snaps Chuck, though it's clear that his cold demeanor began to melt. He eyes her carefully, the way her hips seem to move elegantly from one side to another. The way her legs move like a graceful stallion, with fierceness and balance. For a split second, Chuck feels himself falling more and more attracted to his once girlfriend.

She always did have a power over him. She always has the power to make his jaw tighten, eyes wander on her delicate frame and cause unnecessary effects below the belt. Surprisingly, even after sixteen years, she can still read his facial expression clearly. Instantly, she gets even more irritated and speeds up her pace.

She raises her hand and swings it on his face, eyes fuming mad. Chuck snorts in disbelief, his dark eyes looking up at Blair in tremendous confusion.

"What?" He snaps at the brunette

"I saw that look on your face, Basshole!" She hisses

"What look?" Chuck asks

"You know, the same look you gave me when I first stepped on the Victrola stage that night." The Bass patriarch's mind heads back to that night. The night he fell in love with Blair Waldorf. He remembers the feel of her skin rubbing against his own, her luscious lips daring him to kiss her. The vision of the _real _Blair Waldorf flashes through his mind. Not the serial monogamist and bitch he's heard from the tabloids.

"Don't act as if you're not flattered." He attempts to change the subject, eyes tracing away from her. Blair scoffs cockily.

"Even after _sixteen _years you're still into me." She notes

"Shut up," He snaps silently, embarrassment clearly emitting his face. Blair laughs mockingly.

"Is this why you came here? To mock me?" Blair's face transforms from playful sadist to just plain angry, arms crossing as she glares daggers into Chuck's soul.

"I heard what you said to the New York Post. You said that Charlie is to live with you? You do realize that's not going to happen, right?" The Bass patriarch shifts in confusion.

"What are you talking about? She's _my _daughter."

"Are we really going to have this whole discussion again? She's _our _daughter, remember?" Replies Blair quickly

"No, I don't since you forgot to inform me about it." Blair glares even more ruthlessly at him.

"I wouldn't have had to if you didn't cheat on me." This time it's Chuck who glares at her

"Seriously? Are you always going to play that old trick on me?"

"Chuck," Begins Blair calmly. "Charlotte was born a Waldorf and will _stay _a Waldorf. She is going to live with me in my house instead of your insanely inappropriate bachelor pad with your latest whore's thong lying around." Says the talk show host, disgusted by the thought of Chuck bedding some disgusting bridge and tunnel whore.

"Charlie is my daughter too. And if you haven't noticed, Charles and Charlie are sort of, kind of, alike."

"How is that relevant to her last name?"

"My point is that Charlie is meant to be a Bass."

"Waldorf,"

"Bass,"

"Waldorf,"

"Bass,"

"Basshole,"

"Bitch,"

"Motherchucker!"

"The Blair Bitch project," Sneeks Chuck at her

"Man whore!"

"Serial monogamist,"

"It's a lot better than whoring around with some lame bridge and tunnel prostitute!" Snaps Blair

"Well, nightly affairs are more acceptable that four ex-husbands who you only married to get to their money." Blair gasps

"I did not!"

"Really? You're telling me you were _really _attracted to that ancient German douche? And not because he has a line of billion dollar ships?"

"Has anyone ever told you just how petty you are?" Says Blair

"Has anyone ever called you a slut?"

"I am not a slut!"

"Yes, of course, as if _no one _knows how many guys you've dated."

"At least I dated them, not paid them with money from your illicit business ventures."

"Waldorf, let me be succinct; Charlie is going to be a Bass, she's going to live with me and she's not going to be a Waldorf!"

"Listen Basshole, Charlie came out of me! I carried her for nine months! I have a right to claim her as my own, don't I?" Replies Blair

"Blair, if I put a coin in a vending machine and the soda comes out who does it belong to? Me or the vending machine." Blair gasps at this.

"You _disgust _me!"

"The feeling's mutual."

"Blair, Chuck," Both of them turn from each other to look at Serena

"Charlie and Riley are missing."

Both dark-haired anti-heroines turn to each other, eyes widened in concern.

--

"What exactly are we looking for?" Inquires the Saint Judes Football quarterback, eyes looking around the surroundings of the apartment building where his Aunt Blair resided. The brunette ignores him as she slips out of the apartment building's doors, feet covered in run down boots underneath her dress.

"I'm not fashion expert but isn't that just a bit… Befitting?" Charlie rolls her eyes

"Rule number one of being badass," Charlie begins mockingly "It's not what you wear, it's how you wear it."

"Sounds more like a fashion magazine mantra than a rule, doesn't it?" Charlie shrugs nonchalantly

"You're okay with bikes, right?" She inquires. Riley smiles charmingly at Charlie.

"Definitely," Charlie nods, turning away from Riley and to a motorcycle right across from the apartment building.

"Well then, you wouldn't mind going on a ride on this hunk of metal, would you?" Riley raises his eyebrows, impressed. He assumed she was simply tragic, never that she was a rebel. Yet somehow, this just makes him like her even more.

"Are you kidding me? This is awesome! I haven't been on one since I was in Greece last year! And when I asked my parents for one they just kept telling me that I didn't need it!" Riley says excitably, eyes shimmering in childish glee. Charlie sees the expression of Riley's face, and can't help but smile herself.

"Well then, today's your lucky day." Charlie pulls out a red helmet and hands it over to Riley, who smiles appreciatively and slips it on his head. Charlie takes her own black one and snaps it on her head, barely thinking about hat hair or sweat like most girls on the Upper East Side would.

Riley unties his tie, removes his dress jacket and hands it over to the doorman. "Paul, send it up to the Waldorf's will you?" The doorman nods.

"You still look like a prep school child."

"You still look like a prissy spoiled debutante." At this statement, Charlie's face turns in disgust, shaking her head.

Riley straddles the motorcycle, securing his helmet. Charlie follows his lead.

"Before I start it, I have two questions; One, how'd you get this and two, where are we going?" Asks Riley as he looks behind him.

"First of all, I got this one when I was fourteen. I just moved out of a foster home after things got messy with my foster parents. I was about to be moved to a different one, one that was on the other end of the Bronx. My friend Kelly's own foster parents were giving away this thing because it was broken. So I took it and my friend Kyle fixed it up for me, and I paid for most of it with my savings." Riley nods, careful not to bring up her dark upbringing. He knows she's been through more than he can even imagine. But he also knows that with everything going on, simply keeping things light would be good enough for her.

"Get to the Brooklyn Bridge, keep going down Adams street then I'll tell you where to go from there." Riley doesn't want to ask her where or what they're going to. Somehow, now knowing made him feel even more excited than he already was.

"Alright,"

"Oh, and Riley," Starts Charlie. "This isn't a date."

Riley nods acceptingly. "Never thought it was, Charlie."

--

"Where could they be?" Blair says irritably, pacing back and forth the Archibald dining room, hands on her dainty hips as she rakes her brain on anything Charlie may have said or done to leave. In the living room is none other than the non-judging breakfast club. Both Rhyze and Reese proceeded with their own plans while the adults tried to figure out where exactly Chuck and Blair's newly recovered spawn and the Archibald's youngest son may have ventured onto.

"Chuck, did Riley say anything?" Nate asks Chuck for the thirds time, Nate's usually composed blonde hair messily swooping down his face. Chuck shakes his head.

"He's still not picking up." Serena informs them all, earning a loud irritating groan from her best friend. "B, I'd appreciate it if you didn't groan like that. We'll find them." Snaps Serena, her eyes hinting annoyance at Blair.

For the past two hours they've done was worry and scheme their ways to figure out where exactly Charlie and Riley went. And for the last two hours, Blair did nothing but whine and rant. Blair halts, gaze averting to her practically sister.

"How do you know? For all you know Riley could've dragged Charlie off to some underground club!" Retorts the shorter brunette

"Yes, Blair, because there are underground club at four pm, right?" The Archibald wife deadpans, ignoring Chuck and Nate's slightly amused and at the same time annoyed expressions.

"Not the point, S." Serena's eyes narrow at this.

"Are you saying that them disappearing into thin air is Riley's fault?" Accuses Serena, standing up from her seat across the room to saunter over to her best friend, who snort derisively.

"Who else would it be? Charlie?"

"Possibly,"

"I may not know Charlie that well but I highly doubt that she'd be as reckless and irresponsible as Riley." Nate crosses his arms, looking over at Blair.

"Blair, Riley is a lot of things but…"

"But what?" Demands Blair, her voice high in pitch. "For all you know they may have taken your private jet to San Francisco or Texas by now!"

"Blair, I have to agree with Nate and Serena here, you're jumping to conclusions." Chuck pipes in, looking over at Blair and trying desperately to stop another argument to brew. Blair gasps, a feel of betrayal clearly shining off her face.

Serena sighs, sitting back on her seat and shaking her head. Nate grabs hold of Serena's hand, caressing it as he soothes the blonde's feelings. As both stay in their deep trance, Chuck and Blair can't help but look over at each other. As they do, they both know their thinking the same thing.

_When will I ever have that again?_

--

Riley Archibald turns the engine of Charlotte Waldorf-Bass' motorcycle off after planting the stand firmly on the ground. He pulls the key out of the ignition and pockets it in his suite. Behind him, Charlie removes her warm grasp from his waist and quickly removes her helmet. Charlie places one foot on the ground to balance herself an gets off the motorcycle.

"God, I can't even _remember _the last time I've been on a motorcycle." Muses Riley dreamily, removing his helmet and shaking his head so that no semblance of bed hair would ruin the moment. In two hours they've managed to escape the Upper East Side and venture into an entirely different environment all together. True, it still isn't as exotic or different as Riley aspires, but already he feels like he can breathe.

"I know how you feel." Replies Charlie.

"It's just so…"

"Liberating?" Guesses Charlie. Riley nods pensively, getting off the bike and taking Charlie's and his helmets and stowing it away.

"So where are we, exactly?" Questions Riley. Charlie bends her head down and shakes her long curly brunette locks, to the amusement of the blonde-haired Archibald.

"Well, I was planning on taking you to an underground party with my beloved friends, the mole people, but apparently they only have it during Easter." Charlie says playfully

"Ah, well I am disappointed we couldn't. I have a fondness for mole people." Replies Riley

"Of course you do… So, how 'bout we just take a walk, there's a Seven Eleven one block down. My friends usually hang around there." Informs the brunette.

Both walk in comfortable silence down the sidewalk, Charlie taking in the familiar and comfortable surroundings of graffiti, the scent of second-hand smoke and the shattered beer bottles. Charlie grew up surrounded by this. What she once found unfortunate she also finds familiarity. It's the closest to tradition and childhood she's ever had.

_Now that's a way to be morbid. _Charlie thinks silently, her speed slowing down slightly. _He doesn't know how damn lucky he is! _Charlie screams mentally. This Riley Archibald, whoever he really is, has got to be the most fortunate creature out there. He's been bred in one of the most elite and wealthy families across New York. Not only that, but he grew up _away_ from all this. He grew up knowing exactly who he was. He had a twin brother, parents and probably a dog!

_He NEVER had to wonder about who he was… He never had to question where he came from! _Sometimes, Charlie honestly hates his kind. She and her best friend Izzie always refer to them as 'The special breed', the ones who grew up worrying about 'normal' things like what they'll get for their birthday or who won some silly game. That's all they thought about. They never had to think about whether or not they'll have a roof above their heads.

_Almost makes me hate myself… _As much as Charlie wants to deny it she _knows _she's traded in. Wasn't that the entire reason she went to search for her real parents? Didn't she want to be part of the special breed she so detested?

But isn't that the goal? That we, all of us foster kids, find some way to escape being stuck from one foster home to another? Somehow, her believing this made her less inclined to feel guilty.

"Can I ask you something?" Riley is the first to break the silence, blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight. Charlie shrugs.

"Only if it's something I want to answer." Answers Charlie ominously, biting her lip. Instantly, the feel of lip gloss came to her senses. She lifts the back palm of her hand and wipes it away in utter disgust.

"Why'd you come back? What happened with you and your parents?" Charlie gulps. She knows this story will be re-running time and time again, yet saying it for the first time seemed to take it's toll on her.

"Okay…" Began Charlie, her pale skin turning ruby red. Riley spares a glance at her, before halting and really taking a look at her expression. He sees her try to brace herself for what she's about to say. He sees her scared.

"Well, Blair… S-she gave me up." Confesses Charlie sourly, as if she were forced to swallow an entire bottle of vinegar in one gulp.

"What about Chuck?" Prompts Riley, eyes wandering on his surroundings, somehow avoiding the pained expression Charlie wore on her thin, skull-like, face.

"He never knew." Answers the young brunette

"So how did you? How did you know they were your parents?" He asks

"My social worker had files on Blair and… Let's just say I wasn't supposed to know until I found a way to know." Charlie says hastily, laughing stiffly as she and Riley turned a corner.

Both teenagers halted in front of a run-down seven eleven on the corner lot. Instantly, Riley hid his ogling eyes on a bunch of grease-faced trailer park trash kids loitering near the doors, cigarettes and drugs in hand. Sometimes, Riley wonder if he's seen all the bad in the world. He's read enough books (well, he's read enough _summaries _of books) and has seen and heard enough news to know about the troubles the world overcame, but never before has he seen this part of town with his kind of people.

One male, a tall muscular Vietnamese boy clad in a washed out muscle shirt and a pair of baggy muddy jeans, smirks at Charlie and Riley's direction, a mischievous smirk clearly flashing from his face. He hands his cigarette to one of his cohorts, an African-American man with more facial hair on his face than hair on his head.

"Charlie," Hollers the young Vietnamese male, exchanging an apparently secret handshake with Charlie, who seems to be just as thrilled to be reunited with her own companions. _Now I know how she felt this morning… _Thinks Riley silently. Now he understands how out of place and iridescent she felt in a crowd where everyone is all but the shame shade.

"Kyle," Acknowledges Charlie, her beautiful perfectly sculpted face glowing. Instantly, Riley cocks an eyebrow and bites back a scoff. The last thing he wants is for Charlie to reveal this Ian guy to be her boyfriend. _Not that he's any competition, of course, _considers the youngest Archibald son with a hint of arrogance and over-confidence. But really, how can he be? He is probably only half, or less, educated, handsome and well-mannered than Riley is.

He wouldn't survive one day on the Upper East Side. Imagine how he'd manage once he marries Charlie. A warm bolt runs down his spine. The thought of him and Charlie in their thirties, happily married _outside _of the Upper East Side. The Saint Judes Quarterback knows just how upset his mother would be, but he also knows it's the only way for him and Charlie to be themselves.

_We'd probably own a spectacular vineyard in France… Yeah, we probably would… Though we wouldn't be there too much, we would be traveling the world. And not just the places where mom and dad approved of me going, places out of the ordinary for people like me, like Cambodia or Turkey. _Oh, Riley definitely likes that image of him. Of course, they'll have kids. They'll have Riley's green blue eyes and Charlie's brunette locks. They'll be adventurous and extraordinary and far from normal. They'll be different, just like he and Charlie are.

_We'll even work for the Peace Corp. _Considers Riley, because if it were up to him and not his over-bearing controlling parents, he would take join the Peace Corp. over clerking for the mayor.

_That's the life I want for me… _

"This is Kyle." Riley is snapped out of his spectacular daydream by Charlie's smooth voice, introducing him to the prick who has the nerve to actually _think _he has a chance with Charlie.

"Hey," Despite Riley's intense jealousy he attempts to mask it. As much as Riley wants Charlie to believe they're soulmates, brought together by the fates, he knows that sounds a little too clingy.

Kyle gives Riley a once over, sneering derisively as he takes back his cigarette and takes a smoke, blowing the smoke to Riley's face. _Guess he doesn't know I can smoke a pack a day. _Riley merely shrugs, nodding as he acknowledges Kyle, though his orbs continue to send off a death glare that would make even the late Bart Bass cower in fear.

"Seriously? You brought this fucking pansy here?" Inquires Kyle rudely, pulling up his sleeves as he glares at Riley's direction.

"Careful, Kyle, we might scare the little bwaby off." Says one of his minions mockingly, unaware of Riley's fist tightening, his pride bruised. No one on the Upper East Side would even _dare _call him a baby. He could beat anyone to a pulp if he damn well pleased. He is the reigning king of the Upper East Side, which translates to the world. And while Riley is all for equality, he can't deny that with one snap of his fingers his father can make them disappear from the edge of the Earth.

"Xavier," Hisses Charlie, smacking the tall Caucasian male on his bicep, earning the beautiful brunette a scowl.

"What? You're defending this daddy's boy?" He snaps accusingly. Kyle, who just now seems to catch on with Charlie's humiliation and annoyance, taps Xavier's arm.

"Let it go, Xavier, it's obvious; she's traded up." Says Kyle, his voice a simple deadpan. Charlie gasps, eyes narrowing at the offense on her part.

"Excuse me? I have _not _traded up!" She reminds her friends

"Really? You're shitting me, right? You think I'ma believe you?" Replies the Vietnamese thug, earning another fierce glare from Charlie.

"I haven't!"

"No, you just fucking choose this daddy's boy who you probably only knew for a _day _instead of us, your _friends_." Riley walks over to Kyle, pure indignation flashing off his handsome face. He raises his fist and, before Charlie or his friends could react, goes in to punch him.

Kyle keeps his head sideways, scoffing as he touches his cheek. He looks almost like a maniac as he starts chuckling up a storm. Riley raises an eyebrow, bewildered. Then, Kyle's eyes squint and hid hands go off to choke Riley's neck. He pins him down to the ground, straddling Riley as he raises his fist and goes straight for his nose.

All his friends, minus Charlie, start laughing up a storm as they holler for their leader. Riley lifts his knee and jabs his stomach, forcing Kyle off his lean body. Behind him, Charlie instantly starts a fit.

"BOTH OF YOU! STOP IT! JUST FUCKING STOP IT!" She protests, walking in between Riley, who is still glaring threateningly at Kyle, and Kyle, whose face is now bleeding. Somehow, Riley is the first to break out of his anger, followed closely by Kyle.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO JACKASSES? DON'T BOTH OF YOU KNOW ANY BETTER?"

"He started it." Says Riley, though he knows just how pathetic it is to bring that up. But he didn't want Charlie to think he would _purposely _hurt her friend. Though even he knows he did.

"I _don't care." _Hisses Charlie, her emerald orbs flashing in absolute outrage. Then, Riley gets it. He understands now. He understands that, if her so-called friends asked her again, she would pick them. Charlie would pick her violent and unkind friends over him. He knows that it makes sense for the wildly beautiful brunette to choose her long-known friends, yet he still wants her to choose him.

Kyle sneers, bringing his sleeve up to wipe his nose of the blood streaming down from it. His friends lead him away from Riley, who sighs pensively.

"I'm sorry," Mutters Riley, scratching the back of his neck. Kyle halts and whirls around, eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"What? You're _sorry? _For what? Sorry that when you fucking leave her you won't even remember us? 'Cause you're too busy living in your big apartment buildings? Too busy spending more money that you 'ought? Yeah, no, don't say _sorry_ just 'cause you're nothing more than a pathetic rich asshole who thinks he can get away with picking a fight 'cause his daddy owns a hotel." Kyle hisses, grabbing Riley by the collar and bringing him face-to-face with him.

"No, that would be Charlie's dad." Says Riley simply, no hint of malevolence to find in his voice. Kyle halts, mouth ajar.

"What? You didn't know? Charlie's a 'pathetic rich asshole' as well. Just like me." Kyle shoves Riley to the floor, raising his foot and stomping down on the blond Archibald's stomach, a groan of pain escaping Riley's mouth.

"KYLE!" Snaps Charlie

"Shut up, bitch!" Replies Kyle "It's time we teach this good-for-nothing bastard a lesson." He hisses, taking out a pocket knife from the pocket of his jacket and smirking sadistically. His friends come and pin him to the ground, much to the intense protest of Kyle. Kyle leans down and takes the knife near Riley's jaw, until the next following words slice a wound in him that not any knife he'd use on Riley could compare to.

"KYLE, STOP IT! WOULD YOU QUIT IT! HE DOESN'T DESERVE THIS! JUST STOP!" Screams Charlie, tears of frustration and worry flooding down her eyes as she tries to get to Kyle, until she gets held back by her 'friends'.

"He doesn't deserve this?" Says Kyle simply. "He's deserved this for a hell of a long time. Kyle leans down and takes the knife near Riley's jaw, until the next following words slice a wound in him that not any knife he'd use on Riley could compare to.

"KYLE! YOU HURT HIM YOU LOSE ME!" There it is, the words she vowed she would never declare to Kyle. Kyle's knife slips out of his grip, stopping in shock as his jaw drops. Suddenly, Charlie doesn't see the monster she's seen Kyle become since he dropped out of high school four years ago. Suddenly, Kyle's cold gaze starts to deteriorate. He turns to Charlie, forgetting about what he was just about to do. He saunters towards her, head shaking.

"You don't mean that."

"I do." Reinforces Charlie, her voice hoarse as she trembles. Hot tears continue to stray down her eyes, much to Riley's displeasure.

"All for this punk?" Charlie nods. "Y-you s-said… You s-said we're in _this _together… You s-said you'd never leave me. You s-said I w-would never lose you. You _promised _me that!" Kyle voice cracks, his face full of pain as Charlie stares him down.

"_You _promised _me _you'd never hurt me." Says Charlie in a bare whisper

"I'm not hurting you, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are!" She snaps. "Here you are, hurting my _friend!_"

"You consider him a friend? A friend who you'd put _over _me? You barely know him! W-we hate _his _kind! They're pathetic, useless, and you promised you'd never be one of them." Charlie shakes her head

"I'm not,"

"Considering what you're doing… You are now." And with that, Kyle shoves her now apologetic form away to him and to his friends, who remain torn between sticking up for Charlie or remaining loyal to Kyle. Kyle shoves past them, walking to the sidewalk and away from Charlie's gaze.

A fresh batch of tears appear on Charlie's face as she tries to cope with that just happened. Those who were pinning Riley down not set him free and followed him away from the scene, shortly followed after those who were torn by the decision.

"Felix, seriously? You're siding with him?" The tearful brunette chokes out. Felix, the one friend she and Kyle shared who sided with her most of the time, just shakes his head.

"One day there and you're already different." Is all he says.

"C-Charlie," Riley tries to reach for her, but she shakes him off.

"Charlie, I'm sorry t-that happened." Riley tries again to coddle her, but already she's broken out of her sadness and walks past him.

"Let's go,"

--

The elevator doors of the Waldorf penthouse open, to the immediate attention of four sets of eyes. The Non-Judging Breakfast club transferred from the Archibald's townhouse to Blair's penthouse, where they look over Charlie's file to get an idea of where the two have ventured off to. In walks Charlie, her motorcycle helmet in one hand and her high heels, which she left right beside the elevator. Chuck and Blair are the first to stand, watching Charlie intently

"Charlie, where have you been?" Questions Blair, walking towards Charlie as she tries to catch Charlie's disoriented eyes

"Charlie, where's Riley?" Asks Nate

"He's home." She answers quietly.

"Charlie, w-what happened?"

"Nothing." And with that, Charlie walks up the stairs and to her room, where she spends the rest of the night crying.

--

**Author's Note: Okay, so I know I spent more time on Charlie and Riley, but I thought it was important to highlight the kind of friends Charlie has. Her friends aren't just low class assholes, they're extremely complex and twisted too. **

**PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!**


	9. The Empire State of Heart

_Oh… My head… _Thinks Charlotte "Charlie" Waldorf-Bass as she stretches her legs as she vaguely recalls the last four… Maybe fourteen shots she chugged last night. She briefly recalls riding off on the back of her motorcycle, strapped to the back of Riley Archibald as she brought him to her world. _What a great idea that turned out to be… _She thinks sarcastically, shaking her head as the thoughts of yesterday afternoon drift back to her mind.

The thought of Kyle, her best friend, her brother, her lover and everything else in between came to her. She remembers how he acted towards Riley, how he purposely involved Riley to get to her. She remembers how he took out a blade and how he promised her before that he would never do that. _He said he's never hurt me… _She remembers him telling her that, shortly after she admits to him what happened between her and one of her foster parents. He vowed to never hurt her, the way her mom and her foster dad and everyone else always had.

If she is to be totally honest, she would admit she still is hurt. How could he do that? Didn't he say he'd never hurt her, never make her feel like she's defenseless? Why would he try and beat Riley up then? He knew that the green-eyed brunette was responsible for him. He knew they were friends. Why couldn't he stick to his word? Sure, Kyle was a lot of things. But he stuck to his word, he was a noble, albeit twisted, guy that way,

_Then again, didn't I do the same think? _Taunts a voice in her head, making Charlie shake her head as she grips the comforters tighter to her body. _I said I'd never leave him. I said that, I said I'd never go anywhere without him. Now here I am, an entire city away… And it's not just that, no it isn't, it's that suddenly I feel so far away from him! That night, I saw the Kyle I detested. The Kyle who smoked weed and preyed on bystanders who dared to challenge him. I saw a monster. And what's worse, he turned into one because of me… _

Charlie groans, leaping out of bed as she tries and shake the entire event off. She doesn't want to think about it anymore. She grabs hold of an elastic sitting on the floor and ties her multiple tendrils in a messy bun, without knowledge of the small bits that seemed to fall out of place.

She could hear rather… Loud whispers. Her ears draws her to the double doors of the Waldorf guest room, where the whispers grew louder and louder as she approached the doors carefully. The first coherent sentence is that of Chuck Bass.

"Think she's awake?" Whispers Chuck, nodding over to the door. Blair shrugs, shaking her head in worry. Chuck sighs, shaking his head in thought. Blair lifts up her wrist, her Cartier watch clinging onto it. She looks at the time, sighing. She only has half an hour left to get to the station before she preps for the show and meets with her guests.

"Any guesses as to what happened with her and Riley?" At this all Chuck can do is shrug as he considers the possibilities.

"Only one way to find out." Chuck raises his fist to knock on the door, but not before Blair grabbing his arm and glaring at him.

"Chuck," She hisses "You don't just go in and _ask _a teenage girl what's wrong!" Chuck's eyebrows narrow in genuine confusion, lips pursing as he considers what she said.

"What?" He snaps, bewildered

"Charlie's a girl, a _teenage _girl, she's sensitive and vulnerable at this age. She requires subtle confrontation and guidance. She needs to know we're here for her but that she's free to make her own decisions." Blair says rationally and slowly, much to the amusement of the Bass patriarch.

"What have you been doing all night?" He inquires. Blair averts her gaze, head bent down.

"Reading parenting books." Mutters Blair under her breathe shamefully. It didn't seem right for Blair Waldorf to admit reading parenting books that _tell her _how to be a parent. Chuck's jaw drops slightly, face surprised in disbelief.

"What? They're helpful! You don't even know all the things you can learn from them!" At this, Chuck laughs mockingly at Blair, much to her annoyance. The talk show host's eyes narrow in indignation.

"Basshole, shut it." She hisses, cheeks reddening in embarrassment as she shoves him. Chuck shakes his head, mirthful.

"Seriously? Blair Waldorf reading parenting books? What's next? Knitting? Baking? Wearing _sweatpants_." Blair gaps, horrified at the thought of actually wearing _sweatpants_, the most unladylike attire for any woman.

"Take it back." She snaps, edging closer to Chuck, who now gulps in slight intimidation. He slept with Blair Waldorf, he dated her, he fought against her, he fought with her, he loved her and then he hates her. He's had more than enough experience to say that accusingly Blair Waldorf of wearing sweatpants is like telling a thug to suck it, both resulting to collateral damage and pain of the worst degree. When Chuck resists, smirking tauntingly at her, she reaches for his hair and tugs on it, earning a groan of pain from Chuck.

"Waldorf, don't take your PMS off on my scalp." Chuck says breathlessly, waiting for Blair to let go of her tight grip. Blair continues to glare at him.

"Take it back." She hisses in monotone, tugging even harder on Chuck's raven hair.

"OKAY! I take it back, I take it back!" Blair smiles triumphantly, letting go of her tight grip on his arm. Unknown to the Bass entrepreneur, Blair was all the while savoring the scent of his shampoo. It's the smell of Chuck Bass, it's the smell she used to know all to well.

The double doors fling open, with Charlie standing right in between them. They both inspect her cautiously. Once again, Charlie's messy and untamable brown locks are… Well, messy and untamable. What both Upper East Side residents notice is that her Emerald eyes are washed out and puffy, her entire face flushed and eye bags are prominently displayed on her face. She stands there, eyeing the two in immense interest, before Chuck and Blair crack a seemingly innocent smile.

"Morning," Says Blair chirpily, her smile more exaggerated than her obviously-fake voice. Charlie chuckles sadly, closing the doors behind her carefully. As she turns back to her biological parents, she catches Blair and Chuck mouthing insults at each other. Both dark-haired Upper East Siders see her watching on from the corner of their eyes and immediately halt.

"Did you guys need something?" Inquires Charlie, eyebrows raised

"We wanted to see if you might want to come out of there." Blair begins carefully.

"Yes, maybe you and I can get some breakfast at Pastees. After that, perhaps you would care to join me at the studio. I'm interviewing Jennifer Anniston, though I don't understand why, she's nothing more than a B-list star ever since Friends ended years ago." The Bass patriarch sneers at her attempt. He doesn't know Charlie that well, hell he didn't know her since three days ago, but as the distaste in her faces shows she's obviously not into watching Blair fling mean comments to the audience for fun.

"Blair, I don't think that's such a good idea." Chuck says, an edge to his voice which Blair ignores.

"Why not?" Snaps the talk show host.

"I don't really feel like it." Answers the brunette, her beautiful face illuminating with distraction as she tries to make her way back to her room. Chuck looks at Blair then towards Charlie.

"Why don't we visit your friends?" At this, Charlie stops and turns towards her father, catching his eye as she watches him carefully.

"F-friends?" Stutters the young brunette

"Yes, I'll take a day off work. I'll take you out to breakfast at my hotel then we can drive to the… Bronx, to visit your friends." Blair narrows her eyes, sneering at the back of Chuck's head. Did he actually think that Charlie's old foster home friends were a match for a day at the studio? _I guess Chuck Bass is losing his touch. _She thinks snidely.

"Seriously?" Asks Charlie

"Yes, seriously." Confirms the Saint Judes alumni. Charlie nods pensively.

"I'll get changed." Charlie re-enters her room, leaving a smiling Chuck and a shocked Blair Waldorf.

"What can I say? I get her." Blair scoffs, walking in front of Chuck.

"And I don't?" Demands Blair, voice seething with annoyance. The Bass man smiles at Blair, a real genuine smile, that softens Blair up more and more with each passing second.

"Blair, Charlie may look like you but she thinks like me." Begins Chuck. "She doesn't do the whole shopping and spa therapy followed by an elitist event." Blair doesn't hold back a sneer.

"And what makes you think you know what she wants?"

"Because if I had lost my _best friend, _I'd be in the bar getting wasted or running away." At this, Blair's eyebrows scrunch together in utter confusion.

"Best friend?" Wonders Blair out loud.

Chuck leads Blair away from Charlie's doors and down to the staircase, where the Bass entrepreneur begins his tale.

"Last night, once you went to sleep, I went back to pick up my coat when I saw Charlie getting wasted." Reveals Chuck quietly, only for Blair to gasp in outrage.

"Wasted? You let our daughter get drunk? What kind of father are you?" Blair says angrily, glaring daggers into Chuck's eyes.

"What was I supposed to say? Charlie stop drinking because even though I owned a _bar_ and a _strip club _when I was eighteen I don't believe in drinking? Blair, Charlie's not someone we can control, okay? We don't have any _right _to do so just yet. Right now, we're just two people who came back into her life! Not her parents." Blair sighs sadly, shaking her head

"I just want her to tell me these kind of things." Says the talk show host quietly

"I know," Chuck responds "But we don't know her yet, Blair." He reminds her

"Well I want to, okay? I want to get to know our daughter." Snaps Blair coldly, turning away from Chuck's meaningful gaze as she strides down the stairs in regular Blair Waldorf fashion. Her arms remained crossed, just like her.

"And it's not like you make it any easier." Continues the elder brunette, beckoning Dorota to call the limo to the front of her high rise. As the Polish Waldorf maid walks off in a frenzy she turns back to her ex-boyfriend.

"Oh come on," Whines Blair. "We both know she likes you more than me."

"Blair, she barely knows me. How can she like me more than you?" Accuses Chuck

"Because _you _never gave her up, now did you?" As Blair's anger wears off she sighs and says silently. "Chuck, she has every reason in the world to hate me. And nine out of ten chances she does hate me… I f-feel like s-she's always testing me, waiting for me to show her what a monster I actually am to her."

Chuck reaches over to Blair, grasping her petite shoulders in his hands as he stares into her eyes.

"Hey, you guys ready to go?" Inquires Charlie as she practically jumps down the marble staircase. Surprisingly, Charlie's mop is combed out and falls beautifully down her back. Her entire face is washed and she's in some clean clothes. Though, as both Chuck and Blair quickly take note, her outfit is less than flattering. She's clad in a purple t-shirt far to small for her, thus showing off her belly button. Also, a pair of washed out jeans that look stiffer and less valuable than Tinsley Mortimer hang on her hips.

Despite her attire being far less formal than both Chuck and Blair's, she still carries the same amount of natural beauty and attractiveness. She nods at their direction and picks up her muddy worn-out boots from the side of the stair case and pulls them on quickly, shoving the laces inside as opposed to tying them.

"Charlie, maybe you'd like to shop for some clothes tomorrow." Offers her biological mother. Charlie actually looks up from her boots and to Blair, the corner of her lips tugging harder and harder as she tries to suppress a grateful smile.

"That would be nice, Blair." Responds Charlie, giving Blair a warm smile.

Blair can't help but smile too

"What is this?" Hisses Victoria Hillsburg, Blair's elderly manager, as she slides the latest Hello magazine on Blair's desk. At this, Blair smiles sheepishly at her managers direction as the photo of her and Charlie are plastered across the cover. Words written in clear body say "Waldorf's long lost daughter".

"A magazine." Jokes Blair, avoiding Victoria's adamant stare. She fidgets under her tight gaze. It's surprising that Blair Waldorf, increasingly confident and never frightened, could be startled by Victoria. But as everyone knows, there's such a thing as higher power. For Catholics its God, for Blair Waldorf (at least on Earth) it's Victoria Hillsburg.

"Blair… Did you even have one viable brain cell in your body during the time that you presented your supposed daughter to the press? Didn't you think about its impact on the show? On your career? On me?" Blair snorts derisively, brushing a lock of brunette hair away from her snow white face.

"Of course I did." Answers the notorious talk show host

"And you still did it?" Snaps Victoria, her strawberry blonde bangs falling near her eyes.

"Well everyone was going to find out anyway." Points out Blair

"You couldn't even have been _bothered _to tell me? Blair, this could lead to catastrophe. I've gotten at least three calls from corporate yelling at _me _for this." Victoria whirls Blair's seat around so she can get a better view of her.

"I've also gotten Oprah, Ellen and Dr. Phil making fun of you on their shows! Blair, your image is the wicked bitch of the Upper East Side who speaks her mind and is probably the most unlovable person _in the world_. How do you think your fans will feel when they hear about this? About your daughter with Chuck Bass! Chuck Bass, seriously? Oh, Blair I thought you had some dignity left after you married all those guys. But Chuck Bass?"

"It was a _long _time ago and he's not that bad."

"He's slept with the entire Manhattan population, he went twelve for twelve for all the Maxim cover girls and he owns a bunch of secret underground clubs!" The doe eyes brunette rolls her eyes, shaking her head.

"Victoria, are you done?" Inquires Blair. Blair's manager sighs, pulling up a seat beside Blair

"What happened, exactly?" Victoria's voice can't help but show some interest to the topic. Victoria slaps a blue-eyed blonde's dainty hands away from Blair's flawless hair strictly, eyeing her carefully to see if she dared defy her orders. The blonde's will weakened as she forced herself to walk away from the Waldorf woman and her manager

"I-I had a daughter when I was 24." Reveals Blair, looking down at her Louis Vouitton peep-toe stilettos as she avoids Victoria's penetrating gaze

"And you gave her up?" Blair nods

"Then why'd she come back?" Blair scoffs, eyes narrowing in annoyance. Did Victoria just have to think that every person she knew had secret intentions? Didn't she believe that some people have pure intentions? True, Blair does see the worst in people. But this is her daughter Victoria is criticizing, and Blair can't help but feel on edge. Perhaps it's maternal instinct or loyalty. Or maybe it's just her want to win.

"When she was six, her foster father… _Raped _her." The words tasted like vinegar flowing down her throat. She looks up at Victoria, looking for a hint of sympathy from her hazel orbs. All she sees is a blank stare. Somehow, this frustrates her even more.

"Why am I even explaining this to you?" Snaps the brunette beauty, standing up from her seat and whizzing past her workers and away from her manager.

"So she got raped, okay, then why is she back?"

"She needs some help, okay?" Blair turns to Victoria, eyes shimmering with anger.

"All her life, she's forced herself to be strong. She has forced herself into fighting for herself and fending for herself. All her life, _no one _has ever taken care of her! Did you know that she spent six months living with two drug dealers in the Bronx? Did you know that she didn't go to school for three months because one of her foster parents beat her up? Did you know that every time she falls asleep at least twice a night I could hear her scream in terror? Did you know that one time I walked in her room and I saw her crying in the corner, because that happened to be the same day she got raped? Did you know that she keeps a pocket knife under her pillow? Because she's fucking terrified of someone walking in and hurting her again?

No, you don't know that! You don't know crap about her! And now that I've told you the _living hell _she's been through, I don't think you need to question her coming back." Blair wipes away a frustrated tear from her eyes, shaking her head as she thinks about everything she's said. All Charlie has been through, Blair could never compare to.

"I'm sorry," Mutters Victoria, staring down at her shoes as she bites her lip

"I am too."

Chuck Bass sits directly across his sixteen-year-old daughter, silently watching her every move. She looks at the breakfast menu of the Empire hotel, biting her lip as she tries not to widen her eyes at the alarmingly high prices she could see types out carefully in a beautiful, personalized font.

_What am I supposed to say? I can't exactly bring up her past, can I? Well, what do parents talk about to their kids? How utter disappointments they are? The stock market? _Chuck shakes his head to himself. It's not like he has that much exposure to teenagers. The closest he gets is his friend's children, and even then he's less than talkative with them.

"Are you sure you want to eat here?" Asks Charlie, her voice low as she bends her head down and looks around at the socialites and wealthy hotel guests sitting in the grand dining room. Her eyes peer back at Chuck, who seems to fit in directly with everyone else. Then, self consciously, she peers down at her rugged outfit and wonders how the hell she is related to these people.

"Charlie, it's my hotel." Chuck points out. Charlie reddens, looking back down at her menu in silence. _Maybe that wasn't appropriate… _Thinks Chuck. He puts down his menu and inspects her. She's uncomfortable in her surroundings, just like she was yesterday.

"Let's go," Announces Chuck, standing up from his seat as he takes one more gulp of his coffee. Charlie looks up, a mixture of relief and confusion lighting up from her face. She leaps up, following him carefully.

"Where are we going?"

"Charlie," Chuck turns to her, waving away the man handing him his coat.

"Where is your favorite place in New York City?"

Both dark-haired Basses enter the Empire state building's elevator, holding with them dirty hot dogs from the street and diet colas. It seems to be a rather unusual predicament, Chuck Bass eating cheap $3 hot dogs and coke in his hands. It clashes directly with his pristine outfit, yet somehow he doesn't mind. He can see the mirthful joy in Charlie's expression as she tries to conceal her overall excitement.

"I never would have guessed," Mutters Chuck under his breathe. The green-eyed beauty looks up questioningly

"Guessed what?"

"That you'd actually… _Like _the Empire Stare building." Responds Chuck, smiling nervously.

"I remember the first time I came here. I was ten years old and Kyle actually managed to convince one of his foster brothers to bring us here…" Charlie can't bite back a thoughtful smile any longer. "We went up, and I was so scared I thought I would wet my pants." Charlie thinks back fondly. "And I remember how he hugged me and told me that I needed to do this. Maybe I couldn't conquer the fear of what _happened _with one of my stupid foster parents, but I could conquer this one. He told me to be brave, and we went up. Then I got to the top… You have no idea what the felt like. It felt mind blowing! Like I triumphed over something, the way I always wanted to." Somehow, her words do nothing but soften Chuck's heavy heart.

This is amazing, seeing Charlie seem happy. For the short time he knew her, he hasn't seen too many smiles. But now, he knows he can say he's seen Charlie Waldorf-Bass happy. And he doesn't really think too many people can say that.

"This… Kyle guy, is he your boyfriend? Or just a friend." The green-eyed foster child scoffs.

"Can you keep a secret?" The Bass patriarch nods.

"I don't think either one would be enough. Us being a couple or practically brothers and sisters, it's not enough. No label could ever be enough for us… We're too close, too personal and too knowing to really let either one control us. We like to think we're so close we can be ourselves, but sometimes we want to impress each other, like you normally would if you liked someone. We're too mixed between friends and lovers to really know. I love him… He's the only guy for me." Chuck can't help but raise a quizzical eyebrow. For a girl who grew up dark and complex, she did have some idealism after all.

"So you believe that? You believe that you don't have to be having sex or dating to love someone?"

"Obviously, I'm a girl, and I guess I do believe you need all those definitions. But I just don't think that I'll even love someone the way I love Kyle. And I don't want to settle for anything less." She looks over at Chuck, contemplating on whether or not to ask what she's longed to ask ever since she met him.

"What is it?" Charlie chuckles to herself before averting her gaze back up to him.

"What happened with you and Blair?" Charlie's voice is quiet and barely audible, but Chuck can hear. Somehow, amid the chaos of his reconnection with his Blair and his daughter, he never thought Charlie would ask him that. He barely thought about Blair Waldorf in years before she came back into his life, multiple divorcee and talk show host.

"I-it's complicated…" Stutters Chuck, biting his lip. The elevator doors open and they come into the beautiful view of New York City. The Saint Judes Alumni's eyes dart over to Charlie, who's eyes lit up more than the Rockefeller Tree at Christmas, more than the fireworks on Labor day and way more than when Blair was six and her eyes would go off in glee when Nathaniel actually remembered her birthday.

Charlie runs closer to the view, a small smile clearly tugging on the corner of her lips. Chuck fondly puts in a quarter to the viewing machine and nudges Charlie. Charlie looks over at him then at the instrument. She hands her food over to Chuck, who holds it uncomfortably with both hands, and takes a look.

"New York is really something, isn't it?" Says the brunette in awe as she carefully stirs her viewing object.

"Blair wanted a future… That's what happened." Charlie's smile drops as she looks up at him, her face now filled with curiosity.

"She wanted it all; kids, a big house and me, officially as her husband… And I… I wasn't ready. I guess I'm still not."

"Isn't that usually the problem with relationships? One wants to commit and the other doesn't?" Inquires Charlie, taking her hot dog from Chuck and taking a bite

"Yes well…" Chuck can't seem to continue his sentence. So he takes a childish bite off his hot dog.

"You know what I think?" Charlie asks simply

"I think you two would have made it." Chuck's dark eyes looks into her Emerald orbs, interested and confused by the statement.

"_I think _that if _I _hadn't come along and you two fought harder, you would have made it. You two would be happy _together _however that would have been achieved." Continues Charlie, smiling over at Chuck

"But if there is one person who knows when things are over, that's me, and I can tell that it still isn't over between you two." Chuck scoffs

"I highly doubt Blair Waldorf thinks there's still something there." Charlie shrugs nonchalantly

"Well I highly doubt you don't." Chuck shakes his head

"Witty and unstoppable, you are my daughter." Jokes Chuck

"Hey Chuck," Chuck looks at her again in response

"I'm having fun." Chuck smiles fondly

"I'm glad."


	10. Of Archibalds and Headbands

"Why are we here again?" Charlie says as she carefully inspects the overly-traditional and archaic all-girls school that is Constance Billard, trying to hide her immense distaste for the entire thing. In comparison to all her old cohorts, perhaps she isn't the most rebellious, but even she didn't like convents as much as the next punk rock girl. She eyes the office of the headmistress, taking in many photos of popular alumni, most of them being nearly _everyone _who went to Constance. Including Blair, who seemed to be inspecting her picture with a fond smile.

"To enroll you, Charlie." Answers Blair Waldorf, reading Charlie's file that she had her assistant collect from her social worker. In it, Blair caught an unbiased and unattached view in Charlie's entire life. She's now learned that Charlie once missed months of class after an abuse-gone-wrong incident. She's learned that, despite Charlie's less than mediocre grades, she's managed to show a great natural talent in history. It felt like Blair got to know her in a way Charlie would never let her. She now has the ability to know the answer to practically any question she wanted to ask her green-eyed daughter.

"Well obviously, but why am I going here? Of all places in New York City? Don't you think I might, oh I don't know, not fit in?" Snaps Charlie, her voice on the edge. She's been trying to hide her distaste for the school the second she saw it from the tinted windows of her mother's limo pulling up in front of it's double doors.

_I don't want to go here! Doesn't she see that? Doesn't she get that I'm not cut out for this place? _But as Charlie saw the students come out, dressed in their virginal (though rather ritzy and over-the-top) uniforms and their naïve grins, she's quickly learned that being here is way more safe than back at her old school.

_Still, it doesn't mean I have to like it… _Charlie's gaze goes down to her ensemble; the regulation school uniform Blair quickly got her personal stylists to turn into a preppy nightmare. The cuffs of her white Ralph Lauren polo had the buttons replaced with stylish red cuffs. The front of her shirt had white Marie Antoinette embroidery stitched carefully by hand. Her kilt went over her white shirt and a red belt fastened it. Finally, instead of wearing the ever-practical knee-high socks she was condemned to red tights.

_Ugh, if Kyle saw me… _The Bass-Waldorf spawn thinks in shame, until her mind wanders back to how Kyle looked at her that day. She remembers just how much she hurt him, how much she bruised his ego with her hurtful words. Perhaps to someone else those words wouldn't have stung, but for Kyle it did.

"Charlie," The younger girl looks up

"Do you really not want to come here?" Blair asks softly, her doe eyes softening as she peers at Charlie from the back of her shoulder.

"Because, really, it's okay. I mean, I just thought that if there's one place where you'd find the easiest to fit in, it would be here. I mean, I went here, my mom went here, your dad went to the school right beside it and basically it's in your genetics to be here… But it's okay, really… Because I'd much rather see you be happy in _public school _rather than be unhappy here." Says Blair simply, brushing away a strand of fallen hair from her face.

Charlie fidgets uncomfortably under Blair's gaze. She isn't use to this, being considered by someone for once. It felt good and disturbing, but so did everything else in this scenario.

"Miss Waldorf?" Headmistress Earsaw interrupts their mother-daughter moment, walking into her office with a polite smile on her face. Blair stands up from her seat, tearing away from her and Charlie's conversation to shake the headmistress' hand.

"Yes, Headmistress Earsaw? It's a pleasure."

"Pleasure is all mine." The old woman walks to the back of her desk, and Blair beckons Charlie to take a seat right beside her.

"Well Miss Waldorf, I've read over your daughter's file and frankly, I don't think this is such a good fit." Headmistress Earsaw says bluntly.

Charlie doesn't know why, but her heart sinks. This is it, this is the beginning of her being an outsider in her mother and father's world. It shouldn't bother her, she thought, but it does. It bothers her. And she doesn't know if she wants it to stop. By her being bothered, it proves she's a Waldorf and a Bass, begging for acceptance. So she keeps these feelings, because it makes her closer to the person she should have been rather than the person she is.

"Excuse me?"

"I've read over her marks, Miss Waldorf. Charlotte here, I'm sure, is an extraordinary young girl with great potential…" Begins the Headmistress

"And yet you seem to be turning her down, why?" Snaps Blair coldly, her glare penetrating holes at the Constance Billard headmistress.

"Frankly speaking, she has not been bred to the standards of Constance." Blair scoffs derisively, taking back the headmistress

"What about Jenny and Dan Humphrey? Check your files, or maybe the wall." Blair stands up and struts up to the wall of famous alumni over the past twenty years. Up there, she points to the photographs of Dan and Jenny.

"Both of these Brooklyn spawns have joined this society and ended up on your wall. They were different, they weren't legacies! And you let them in! But Charlie… Charlie here is a born legacy. She's my and Chuck Bass' daughter, her grandfather donated the school's library and theatre! Whether or not she is Constance Billard's model student doesn't dictate her entrance, not does it?" The Headmistress tires to soothe Blair, but she wouldn't.

"Charlie is _my _daughter. And _if _she is _not _part of this student body, her father and I, being the supreme benefactors of this institute, will pull back our donations _and, _with our high influence, turn this school into a travesty!" Threatens Blair, voice sharp like a needle and cold as ice.

There's silence as the Headmistress tries to find her words, and Blair keeps her adamant stare. Finally, Blair heard what she wanted to hear:

"Welcome to Constance Billard."

"Here's your class schedule, dear." Says the Constance Billard secretary sweetly, handing Charlie a yellow sheet of paper which had her subjects outlined for each day of the week. Her eyes widened at the extensive classes right in front of her:

8:20-9:40 – Biology

9:50-10:50 – English

10:50-11:50 – Italian

11:50-12:50 – Lunch

12:50-1:50 –

1:50-2:50 –

"Why are these two blank?" Inquires Charlie, looking towards the red-headed secretary as she points out to the two blank spaces on her class schedule.

"Ah, yes, well, you have yet to pick out your electives, don't you?" Mrs. Brett points out through her thick glasses.

"Well, I don't really know what's…" Before Charlie can finish her sentence, Mrs. Brett already pulls out a list of electives for Charlie to choose from. The brunette beauty takes the sheet and reads through it carefully. Her eyes widen a the less-than-normal electives outlined on the sheet. Things like _Future Entrepreneurs, Advanced Field Hockey, Environmental Awareness, 18__th__ century European studies, Physical Education, Geometry, Geographical Studies, Literature Appreciation, Foreign Languages and Advanced Human Anatomy _were some of the many classes Charlie could see.

_What the hell? Where's the stupid stuff? Home Economics, Gym, and even freaking art! What kind of obsessed psycho actually takes these classes? _Charlie screams mentally, trying her best not to break down into a fit of rage. How was she supposed to fit in here? She's white trash, to put it lightly. She isn't meant for this.

"Charlotte Waldorf-Bass?" The Waldorf-Bass spawn whirls around, shaken by the interruption, only to come face-to-face with a… _Beautiful bitch… _

"Y-yes," Stutters Charlie, fidgeting under the superior raven-haired girl's scrutinizing gaze. The dark beauty smiles at her in that sickeningly sweet way that makes Charlie's stomach whirl

"I'm Lorraine Humphrey, student council president and your peer guide through your first day." Her voice is fluent and graceful, making Charlie hate herself even more for not being as refined. She knows she sounds like a common American teenager. And she knows she is.

"Hi," Answers Charlie, smiling politely back at Lorraine.

"Mrs. Brett is Charlotte all done here? I'm to escort her to _all _of her classes for today." Mrs. Brett looks over at Charlie

"Charlotte, have you chosen your electives?" Asks the secretary, pulling off her glasses and looking inquiringly at Charlie. Lorraine intervenes, skillfully hiding her distaste for Charlie, and takes the electives sheet. She scribbles two subjects down and hands it back to Mrs. Brett, whose either too stoned or too frightened by Lorraine to protest.

"Wha-" The new Constance Billard student begins to ask, until she's interrupted by Lorraine

"Social Studies and Community out-reach, their the only subjects worth taking around here. Plus, I happen to be in _both _of those classes, so it's quite convenient for us, don't you think?" The blonde student body president says confidently, smiling passively at the secretary. She walks (or rather struts) out of the office, with Charlie choosing to follow her slowly

"Charlotte," Charlie takes a peek back at the secretary.

"I hope you enjoy your first day in this naïve, bitch-lipped and not to mention socially conscious prep school." Says Mrs. Brett, smiling encouragingly at Charlie.

"This is the courtyard." Announces Lorraine Humphrey, letting Charlie open the door only to slip out of it before she does. Lorraine Humphrey, being the resident Queen Bee of Constance Billard, already _knows _the future of this brunette. She'll start of as an awkward wannabee, friends with all of the desperate scholars, then transition into being a waste of space on the social calendar. It's undeniable faith for a girl like her. Or at least that's what she thought.

Seconds after seeing Charlie, decked out in the Constance Billard uniform, she's seen her resemblance to Blair Waldorf and Chuck Bass. It was silly of her to believe that with her pathetic foster child past she'll be nothing but a nobody. She was a Waldorf and a Bass, both of her parents' genetics ensured that she was born to rule Constance with an iron fist. The uniform fit her perfectly in Lorraine's opinion, thus scaring her more.

_I can't let her take my kingdom over, I've worked too damn hard to get to where I am. _Sure, Lorraine was born into a good amount of wealth from her artistic parents, but she doesn't have blue blood in her. She's still, and will always be, a girl who comes from a new money family. She'll never be a true blue legacy like Charlie.

"Most of the students conglomerate here before, during and after school." Continues Lorraine, adjusting her hold on her YSL purse.

"Why are there guys here? I thought this was an _all girls _school." Lorraine hides her annoyance for the hint of mockery in Charlie's voice.

"Constance Billard's brother school is Saint Judes, therefore they both share this building. Some classes are even mixed, such as Community out reach." Answers the blonde Humphrey.

"Yes, defeat the purpose of being an all girls school, why don't you?" Mutters Charlie. Lorraine looks over at Charlie, eyebrows arched.

"It's tradition, Charlotte." Snaps Lorraine, walking away from Charlie and towards her clique. She pointedly scoffed right before she walked away to make sure she got the point. She isn't welcome.

"Why were you talking to her?" Asks Elizabeth Humphrey-Wales, Lorraine's best friend and cousin, with utter distaste.

"Student council responsibilities, Breezy." Replies Lorraine, using her nickname for her beloved cousin. Beside Elizabeth stood Brooke Baizen, hands on her hips as she watches Charlie carefully.

"Raine," Brooke says, nodding over at Charlie. "Look,"

"CHARLIE!" Charlie's insecure thoughts are broken by an excited voice calling her name, forcing her out of her own self pity and into his open arms. In front of her stands Riley Archibald, the tall and handsome guy who she let drive her to Brooklyn and away from the Upper East Side. He envelopes her in a tight hug, lifting her up from the ground and whirling her around jokingly. Charlie giggles, placing her gloves hand on his shoulder as she lets him settle her back on the ground.

"I didn't know you were coming here." The blonde Saint Judes student says, smiling brightly at Charlie.

"Yes well, I don't really _want _to be here." Says Charlie simply, avoiding the interested looks the many Saint Judes boys were sending her. Up until now it is still such a mystery for her as to why any guy would look her way, especially now that she's surrounded by Kate Moss look-alikes. She isn't anything special, that she knew. Yet guys from high school friends to her foster dads to random guys on the street seem to take notice.

"Who does, right?" Replies Riley, ruffling up her messy mop. Charlie laughs, stepping back to avoid his hands, shaking her head.

"Nice eye," Charlie points out, leaning closer to get a better look at Riley's black eye.

"Yeah, well, _it's all the rage in Milan, darling_." Drawls Riley mockingly, grinning as he tries to hold back the giddiness he continues to feel. Charlie laughs, her laughter sounding like a melody in Riley's ears.

"You know, you do I kind of owe me. I mean, I took a punch for you." The Archibald son points out.

"Oh really? Well then what can I do? Sell you my keychain collection? Work as your personal assistant? Maybe even let you wear my boots." Riley raises a bewildered eyebrow, looking down at Charlie's feet. Contrary to her preppy uniform were her rugged brown boots. It made her look weird, thus making Riley like her even more.

"What about Friday night?" Charlie's smile wavers

"I thought I made it clear, Riley." Mumbles Charlie "I'm not really… The dating sort."

"Who said it was a date?" The brunette Waldorf-Bass chuckles

"Nice, well, I need to go find… Room 419. I have… Biology." Riley nods

"Well I can walk you, my class is on the fifth floor." Charlie looks at the back of her shoulder, where she could already see people gossiping about her relationship with the handsome Abercrombie and Fitch type model. It's not that Charlie actually _cares _about what people think about her, but the last thing she wants is to make rumors before people got to know her.

"Charlotte," Lorraine and her cohorts, all clad in their personalized (yet somehow all similar) uniforms, walk towards her and pointedly ignoring Riley. Lorraine sweetly smiles at Charlotte.

"We'll walk you to class. You have it with Brooke over here." Charlie looks over at the gorgeous red head watching her stealthily. Before Charlie can respond, Lorraine grabs her arm tightly and pulls her away from Riley and up the stairs.

"Charlotte, what were you doing talking to Riley Archibald?" Inquires Elizabeth Wales as she and her friends stepped onto the second floor, her dark eyes staring into her green ones imploringly. Charlie stammers, unsure of how to answer. Deny? Tell them all about her sort-of-date-gone-wrong incident? Which one would get them to not think of her as socially inept.

"Uh… I met him at that party on Sunday." Answers Charlie, shrugging nonchalantly for effect. Beside her stands another blonde, this one obviously younger than Charlie and her friends. She raises an eyebrow skeptically.

"What grade are you in?" Charlie can't help but inquire. The blonde looks over at Charlie, her elegantly plucked eyebrows raising in acknowledgement.

"Freshman." She replies.

"I don't think we've officially been introduce, I'm Reese Archibald." Charlie's eyes widen. _S-she's his sister… Oh that's a nice way to start a conversation! _

"Charlie," The brunette replies

"I thought it was Charlotte." Presses Elizabeth, her blonde bangs falling around her eyes as she says this. Charlie looks over at Elizabeth, taking in her rather nice features. She has a nice perfectly sloped nose, bright and fresh eyes and a rather voluptuous form. She's beautiful in that shampoo commercial way, not nearly as exotic as Lorraine, or as angelic as Reese, or as mysterious as Brooke.

"It is, but Charlie sounds less formal." Replies the brunette

"Formal is better around here." Snaps Brooke, tossing her curly red hair to the back of her shoulder passively. Charlie can't seem to bite back a scoff anymore.

"Yes, maybe in your world." Brooke whirls around, walking up to Charlie with the slight disadvantage of being shorter. Despite this, she still manages to threaten Charlie, making her move back a step. She arches an eyebrow malevolently.

"Care to share your thoughts, _Charlie? _Seeing as how you have so many." Says Brooke simply, hands on her dainty hips as she studies Charlie carefully. She's drop dead gorgeous and stunning, that Brooke easily identified the first second Charlie appeared on the scene. She also sees just why she's a Waldorf and a Bass. Sure, she grew up on the wrong side of the tracks raised by molesters and alcoholics, but she still manages to have an heir of natural class both Elizabeth and Lorraine can never seem to.

"I'm _just _saying that I don't need my name to be formal. I don't need to look pristine and perfect or act like a debutante. I'm an ex-foster child from Brooklyn to the Bronx to Queens! I'm bridge and tunnel! White trash to the cheap bone! I'm _not _nor will I _ever _be a Park Avenue princess like all of you! And you know what? I don't want to be… I'm perfectly good with being me. And if you guys don't want to associate with me? Fine, I don't really giving a fucking shit…" Protests Charlie passionately, earning the interest of all the students in the hall, including the Archibald twins and their cohorts.

"I can take care of myself, Lorraine. No need to bother." Grumbles Charlie, giving each one of them a long stare that makes each one of them burn in anger.

"And by the way," They all look at her, trying to figure out what else she has the nerve to say.

"Those headbands are stupid."

All their jaws drop in a mixture of outrage and disbelief, the triumvira scrambling to tear the passionate and confident look off Charlie's beautifully carved face. Around them, girls with their cell phones were taping the entire event, laughing as embarrassment came down on the reigning bitches of Constance Billard.

_Serves them right, _Charlie thinks to herself smugly. Why had she been too desperate to fit in? She never would. That she knew the second they started trashing her nickname. She's Charlie. She's not an archaic princess like them and she just doesn't want to be. And it's not like she's scared of them. She's been through abusers, druggies, alcoholics and members of the Mafia. She's seen the worst and _survived _the worst. A bunch of bitchy PMS-driven sociopaths are nothing in comparison.

So with one last stare into Lorraine's dark eyes glaring daggers into her, she turns her heels and walks away, her head held high. She sees Riley watching her, clapping approvingly in awe as he tries to push past his friends. He walks up beside her, grinning ear-to-ear.

"That's it, you are _officially _a legend." Mutters Riley, looking back his shoulder as he watches Lorraine and her minions stomp off in annoyance. He nudges Charlie and she takes a peek back. At this, she snorts.

"I can't believe I did that." Says Charlie

"Well you did, and I'm proud as hell!" Says the younger Archibald son enthusiastically.

As Charlie and Riley walk, a girl with a colorful bandana strapped over her sandy brown hair claps slowly. She's leaning back on the brick of the walls before she stands up straight, tearing off her shades and revealing her purple eyes.

"Interesting, I guess the new girl's not a sissy like I thought." The Waldorf-Bass daughter raises an eyebrow, bewildered. Before she can ask the girl already grabs her schedule and takes a peek.

"We have second period together. I'll save you a seat." And just like that, she walks away from Charlie. Charlie stops, dumbfounded. Beside her, Riley smirks.

"See, you're made a friend!"

"Who was she?" Inquires Charlie, walking up the stairs of Constance Billard slowly. The Archibald son chuckles silently. "That's Xelin Buckley." Answers Riley, readjusting his hold on his bookbag as he leads Charlie away from the wrong hallway. Charlie arches a quizzical eyebrow.

"Cselin?" Says Charlie, trying to pronounce the complicated and unique name through her nose. Riley laughs at her attempt, earning an annoyed scowl from a frustrated Charlie.

"Don't worry, it's hard. Trust me, it took me a year after she changed her name to get it right." Replies Riley

"Changed her name?"

"Her real name's Vexelina Illionoi Buckley. But you call her that and you get a five hour sermon on propriety followed by flinging recycled notebooks and bruises." Charlie shakes her head. Was this entire school filled with sociopaths and nut-jobs destined to make her go insane?

Charlotte Waldorf-Bass walked into her second period class after walking down every hallway on the second floor where her English class was located. As she walks in she realizes that every pair of eyes were gaping at her, all interested as to who she was. She looks over at the teacher, who seems to be too preoccupied in reading Jane Eyre than calling her late.

In comparison to her biology class, which she spent sitting beside an Oriental girl who barely spoke any English and learning about the cells of invertebrates, this class seemed to be filled with people much more aware of who she is. And that frightened her.

At the very back sat Xelin and, as promised, a vacant seat beside the window awaits her. After five seconds of awkwardly waiting for recognition, she walks into the class, her head bent down, and practically runs to the back of the class with Xelin. Maybe it would be a better idea to sit with someone less secluded and _weird _as Riley described, but the truth was that she secretly longed for it.

An hour into the school she's heard of things completely out of her league. Discussions about the Chinese dynasty and summers spent in Monaco. Things far beyond Charlie's knowledge of motorcycles and pick pocketing. And then she looks over at Xelin, with that silk bandana strapped to her head and her eyes transfixed on a rugged old notebook as she scribbles quickly.

"Is that her?" She hears the loud and rude voice of a strawberry blonde sitting in the very front of the class, twisting her Tiffany and Co. bracelet as she eyes Charlie carefully

"Okay, my sister told me she saw her making out with Rhyze at the courtyard this morning." Says another vulture in Versace

"I thought it was Riley. I mean, did you see him at the brunch when she first came around?" Pipes in another girl, making Charlie feel more and more insignificant in their presence. The Bass-Waldorf spawn hurries her pace down the many tables, plopping herself down beside Xelin and letting her brunette ringlets cover her face like a mask. She could hear Xelin laughing, humor clearly flashing from her face.

"I thought you were kick ass." Mentions Xelin, nudging the brunette outcast jokingly.

"Remember? Not giving a crap about formality?" Reminds Xelin, tossing her sandy blonde hair to the back of her broad shoulders. Unlike the foursome Charlie was briefly acquainted with or the several minions hanging around her classes, Xelin seemed to be much more… Unique and real. She reminds Charlie of herself.

"Yeah, well it's easier said that done."

"I'm Xelin." Says the sandy-haired girl, closing her notebook to stare into Charlie's Emerald orbs. The sandy-haired outcast takes a good long look at Charlie's symmetrical face, then her model-like stature and snorts derisively.

"What?" Asks Charlie, hints of annoyance clearly palpable in her voice

"Nothing, it's just… I get why you've got Riley Archibald all around your finger." Says Xelin simply

"Which is?" Snaps Charlie

"You have the whole Alessandra Ambrosia look with the Kate Moss body." Charlie shakes her head, still bewildered

"You don't know who either of those girls are? Bing them, you'll get the picture." Charlie nods awkwardly. She doesn't really know what to say to that, or to anything. Luckily, Xelin seems to have taken the hint and eases her attacks on Charlie

"So, Charlie, right? News travels fast here." Charlie nods

"Well I'm sure you'll love it here, it's filled with whiny bitches more concerned about couture and Lacrosse games than the real world." Charlie can't fight back a mirthful laugh.

"What is it with you prepsters and your constant need to _belong _to the real world?" Mumbles Charlie to herself, unaware that Xelin continuously pays attention to any word that slips out of her mouth. When Charlie realizes this, she looks back up at Xelin and smiles awkwardly.

"I-I'm s-sorry, that wasn't meant to sound…" Stutters the new Constance Billard student quickly

"Don't worry about it, I get it. Personally, I think it's the whole interest in not being who they are." Begins Xelin, angling her body to face Charlie better.

"Most of us born into this society are either too frightened or comfortable living in this bubble of ever-lasting perfection or too fed up with the constant routines and privilege and are always wondering as to what the real world is like." Charlie nods as Xelin says this, it seems to make sense, she supposed. For someone like her, who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks with the wrong people, all she's ever wondered is how life was for the other end of the spectrum; The lucky ones, the rich ones, the ones born for success and reprimanded for failure. If she is to be completely honest with herself, she can say first hand how much she wants to be like them. She knows she'll never be like them, but she likes to pretend she's born to be like them. Even if she knows she's not.

_Great… Lunch time, the most horrible part of every new girl's first day… _Thinks Charlie as she's release from her Italian class, where the only word she could utter is 'Ciao bella' and even that seems to be wrong on some level, as her Italian teacher said. Her Italian teacher, Mrs. Orvialntia, suggests that she switches out of her class, seeing as how she's destined for failure because of her lack of experience. Luckily, Charlie isn't so torn up about it.

_Whatever, it's not like I'm going to move to Italy anytime soon. _Thinks Charlie nonchalantly. She looks down at her schedule, perhaps she can push back the awkward lunch period by a few minutes to go look at her locker. She never got around to it the entire morning, so perhaps this is a better time than ever. She whizzes past more curious gaze, which she's learned to ignore by looking down at her boots instead of taking a good look at them.

As she continues her shameful journey, she's taken by surprise when she bumps into a muscular male body. She averts her gaze, expecting to see another Abercrombie and Fitch model, instead she's overwhelmed by a Greek God look-alike clad in a dark blue coat over his Saint Judes uniform. She looks up at Riley's face, waiting for his sparkling green-blue eyes to make her feel comfortable, instead she's met with a cold stare despite the fake easy going smile he tried to emit.

"Rhyze, right?" Says Charlie. Quickly after meeting both twins, while their looks were exactly alike, she's quickly learned that their facial expressions varied immensely. Riley, on one hand, always has a smile on his handsome face. He's always… Happy, never one to frown unless he's trying to make a point. He emits this friendly, outgoing vibe that makes him the perfect friend for anyone.

Then there's Rhyze, with his more rigid fashion and personality. One would think that, like everyone else, she would send him off as just another bastard guy, but she didn't. Despite their very short conversation at her biological father's brunch she seemed to earn more about him in a minute than she did with Riley on their fake date.

Rhye, tall and handsome and much more demanding of respect than his younger brother, is easily a complex person, according to Charlie. He's dark and cold and unattached, unlike his brother. They are polar opposite, both on two different sides of the spectrum. They differ greatly in facial expression to words, as she's noticed. Rhyze is darker, a lot less friendly than his brother and, as Charlie could guess, a lot less well-liked.

_Maybe that's why he's such a bitch to girls… _Charlie remembers how Rhyze charmed her with his smile, only to rudely push her away. She didn't take it personally, she's used to people dismissing her like the trash she is, but somehow she could tell that despite his bipolar personalities, he has a heart. It's cold and hardly ever used, but there's one.

_But people gave up on him, didn't they? _She knows what it's like to be in his shoes, under looked by everyone, and that's why he never shows any real emotions, because he's scared. And because of that, Charlie seems to put him on a pedestal.

"Charlie, I didn't know you were coming here. If I did I would have sought you out." He says, turning on his charisma in her presence. Charlie snorts quietly, but still loud enough for Rhyze to notice. Instead of narrowing his eyes in annoyance, he hides it with a grin.

"Of course you would," Charlie says sarcastically, moving past him and to the staircase. She doesn't exactly know where her locker is, but considering the first few numbers she guesses it's on the fourth floor. Rhyze trails behind her, shaking his head jokingly.

"Why, of course I do, any girl who can manage to get my brother in trouble is a friend of mine." Says Rhyze, speeding up his pace until he's right beside her.

"I _love _how you assume we're friends." Says Charlie

"Am I wrong to?" Rhyze points out. Charlie stops a few steps before the fourth floor, arms crossed as she shakes her head. Rhyze turns to look at her, taking in just how… _Beautiful _she is. She looks exactly like the girl he'd have on his arm, witty and powerful, not a pushover like every other girl. Even Lorraine Humphrey, a girl who he previously had secret trysts with in spare rooms, never seemed to demand as much respect as Charlie.

Rhyze thought that Charlie would be another lowly girl he could manipulate, and oh was he wrong. She's strong and powerful, as well as witty in her own sense. Somehow, this makes Rhyze more fond of her than he ever was of any girl he's tried to steal from his brother.

"What do you think? You're not exactly the poster boy for model citizen now are you?" Rhyze narrows his eyebrows

"What do you know?" He asks

"Just that you're not the epitome of Upper East Side perfection as you make yourself out to be, that's all." Answers Charlie, crossing her arms. She could see past his façade, and she could tell that her being much more observant annoyed him. Rhyze scoffs.

"These accusations you're making, do they have any evidence or are you just a self-righteous bitch?" Rhyze's kind and welcoming façade is broken, and finally Charlie sees the real Rhyze Archibald.

"Lucky for you I don't need evidence to spot a walking, talking and bitching ruse when I see one." Snaps the brunette beauty cockily. Rhyze raises an eyebrow

"Me? A ruse? You're mistaken, firecracker. I don't try deceiving anyone. Everyone knows I'm exactly who I am." Charlie laughs mockingly.

"Really? Everyone knows you're a sadistic asshole? I can see past your little mask of self-imposed perfection. As far as what I can tell, you're just another hateful man trying to one-up his brother."

"Are about done making accusations? You have _no idea _who you're messing with here, and frankly I'm not that surprised. You think you know me? Well then you should know that the _only _reason I'm even bothering talking to you is because my brother seems to be under your spell. He genuinely believes you're different, being a foster kid and all. I guess he never came to assume that being just like me and everyone else here is in your blood." Hisses Rhyze, his green blue eyes desperately trying to conceal his attraction to Charlie.

_Where is this coming from? How can her being such a bitch turn me on so bad? _Thinks Rhyze. He doesn't get it, really. She's supposed to be another conquest to him, another thing to take away from his _beloved _brother. Why is it that as opposed to wanting her so his brother can't have her, he just wants her for himself? Maybe it's because her hateful stare is so incredibly… Sexy on her. Maybe it's because she's the only girl who has seen past his mask and knows who he really is.

_It's strangely relieving, having someone know exactly who I am… _It's as if his façade is non-existent around her.

"I am _nothing _like any of you." Snaps Charlie, about to walk down the stares to threaten him, when she loses her step and falls. Out of reflex, Rhyze quickly catches her in his lean arms, Charlie's arms wrapping around his neck for support. Rhyze can feel her rather full chest brush on his own muscular chest, shivering at the thought of what is behind her sheer white button up shirt. Not only that, but her soft and smooth bare legs were the first thing he felt when she lands in his arms. Rhyze's own hands seemed to have captured her in an awkward position. One arm held her waist while another seemed to have reflexively grabbed onto her thigh. Charlie looks up at him, eyes flashing in outrage.

"Can you try to not grope me?" She hisses

"You're lucky I even caught you after you verbally attacked me." Replies Rhyze

"Could you shut up? It's not like you had a choice. If I tripped and broke my leg it would be on your conscience."

"Oh, now I have a conscience?" The distresses brunette rolls her eyes, pulling away from Rhyze's firm grasp.

"Whatever, think, say or do whatever with your own pathetic act but leave me out of it." Charlie moves to his side, about to walk away from him when he takes her by the arm and looks into her doe eyes

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a robot. I do have certain emotions, wrath being the recent one you've provoked… Followed by… Lust of course." Says Rhyze quietly, inching closer to take in her entire aura of beauty and spite. Charlie scowls at him, rudely pushing him away.

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

"What I'm trying to say is… You just brought my level of interest for you through the roof." Charlie rolls her eyes, walking away from Rhyze, unaware of the thoughts running through Rhyze's head.

_Every single woman I've been with, I was with to terrorize Riley… But this time, I want her for myself. _

**Author's Note: YES! I finally uploaded! I must say that I absolutely adore this chapter. Especially the last part. Personally, I think Rhyze brings out the real Waldorf and Bass in Charlie, as opposed to the timid naïve girl Riley seems to influence her to be. I haven't decided who she ends up with yet, but this is definitely going to be one big love triangle. There's not too much Chuck or Blair in this, but there will be more soon.**

**PLEASE REVIEW! CAN I HAVE AT LEAST 3? Lol, I don't know it just feels weird writing author's notes when I feel like no one's reading!**

**REVIEW!**


	11. Unfortunate Souls

The rest of the beautiful spawn by the name of Charlie Bass' first day was a hectic, confusing and insufferable mess. It all began with her encounter with the devilishly handsome and malevolent blonde by the name of Rhyze Archibald. It wasn't that Charlie was attracted to the evil Archibald twin, no, she was way above such immature things. It was that, with only 5 minutes of them actually speaking to each other (That includes the disastrous and stuffy Bass Brunch) he had managed to understand her. He understood Charlie in a way that no one ever did, not even Kyle.

_He saw right past the tragedy, past the sadness I carry around like a torch. He saw me, vengeful and angry and ruthless, without even knowing the circumstances. It was as if he knew me better than I knew myself. _Charlie can't help but think or believe that she might not be alone in this world. Maybe, for once, someone understood her. Maybe, for once, she wouldn't have to go through everything alone. Maybe, just this once, someone could save her from the festering anger she held in her heart.

Everyone, Chuck and Blair and Kyle, they all believe her to be sad. They all believe that the brunette beauty is nothing but a beautiful disaster, whose spirit was crushed by those around her. They all think that she's shattered and that she needs to be put back together. Perhaps Charlie was, but that wasn't all she was. She wasn't just broken and damaged, she was also angry and hurt. No one saw that, no one bothered to acknowledge it. It was like they were avoiding the anger, believing that it was nothing more than a fleeting branch and her sadness was the root.

_They're wrong. I'm not just broken by what happened to me, I'm also mad. I'm very mad. Mad that all this pain, all this suffering, had to happen to me. I'm mad that Blair tossed me aside, never looking back. I'm mad that I never had a family. I'm mad! I'm mad at them, at me, at everyone! _Charlie thinks in personal indignation and frustration. She always hid her anger, settling for sadness, because that was easier. That was more likable, more understandable than being mad. When she was mad, everyone would go against her, especially Kyle, who loved her for being tragic and hurt. Everyone would just think of her as a bitch with no heart, and Charlie didn't want that. Why? Because she knew that once they did, Charlie would really be nothing.

Then Rhyze came to her, his mask of perfection in place, and she couldn't help but be irritated. She instantly blew up like a fuse, and for the first time, Charlie felt passionate, felt alive. For the first time real, honest emotions came from her, and it was a nice change.

_I guess I have that asshole Rhyze Arhcibald to thank… _After the heated conversation with the younger Archibald twin she made her way to the cafeteria, only to realize that the cafeteria was filled with flat eight graders and wannabee seventh graders, tweeting like mad on their iPhones. A few moments after, one of eight graders who got over the initial shock of having a junior in the cafeteria, revealed that all the high school students hang around at the Met.

As she walked over to the Met, she was met by dark glares from the very top of the Met staircase. It was Lorraine Humphrey, supreme bitch of the Upper East Side, and her cohorts looking down at her like she was a mut at a dog show. Then, with a surge of confidence, Charlie chose to walk up the steps, past the group of bitches, and sit at the very top and away from the heated stares and bird poop.

_Great mistake I made… _Muses Charlie, as she stands in the washroom of Constance Billard, using the sink to wash off four packs of yogurt off her head, face and shirt. As she sat on the top, feeling just a little bit sentimental and as if it were home or something that absurd, Lorraine went off to say, in her bitchy and preppy voice:

"I know that, what with your lack of breeding and socially inept ways, we couldn't possibly expect you to know any better but, like the infamous Blair Waldorf, your mother whom you have nothing in common with, said "Ignorance of the rules is no excuse for breaking them". So, if you'd like to save yourself the indignity of going back to that bridge and tunnel 'public high school' you went to, I'd suggest you get out of the steps and go sit with that loser Xelin and away from us."

And, when Charlie simply scoffed with her unwavering apathetic view on the entire hierarchy and establishment of the Upper East Side, she was met with four consecutive yogurt packs falling all over her mop of silky brown locks and primly pressed Oxford shirt.

As if that didn't cause her enough humiliation, she caught a glimpse of at least 15 girls and boys snapping pictures of her sprinting down the stairs, only to be scolded by Riley Archibald in the process.

_What a great bloody day… _Thinks Charlie sarcastically as she tries to squeeze out the thick baby pink colored yogurt out of her tendrils.

"Hey," Charlie looks up at the mirror, which reflects to the door of the washroom opening, revealing her new sandy haired friend holding up a towel and holding it out for Charlie to take.

"Don't worry about it." Says Xelin, plopping herself on the edge of the mahogany counter of the washroom and bringing her knee up to tie her shoelaces nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I won't." Answers Charlie coldly, taking the towel and tossing it to her side like a rag. Xelin scoffs, raising her eyebrows.

"What's with you?" She asks

"Maybe the fact that you just stood there, laughing and letting everyone take _pictures _of me covered in yogurt!" Snaps Charlie, turning away from her reflection to meet Xelin's amused eyes with her own Blair Waldorf/Chuck Bass-like death glare. Xelin snorts derisively.

"It's yogurt, it comes off." She responds

"That's not the point." Charlie points out idly. Xelin drops her foot and laughs.

"Don't be such a baby!" Whines Xelin, rolling her eyes in annoyance. Charlie scoffed, glaring at her own reflection to avoid smacking the sandy haired outcast out of the counter. How dare she assume Charlie was a baby? She was anything but! She went through hunger and abuse and molestation without shedding a tear! She was Charlie! She was strong! She was a fighter! For someone to think she was weak was offensive.

Xelin raises her iPhone up and snaps a picture of Charlie, who dodges the flash of the camera in a split second.

"Aw," Xelin moans "It came out blurry." She says, disappointed

"What the hell is your problem?" Inquires Charlie

"I thought that you were nice! I thought that you weren't like the rest of these bitches around here! I thought that you were actually a decent person who cared about me! I thought we were friends! Then here you are, taking picture of my humiliation!" Retorts Charlie passionately

"Well…" Xelin began softly, and Charlie feels an apology coming along. _Thank god, I need a friend in this hell hole… _

"I guess you thought wrong." Xelin plops herself off the counter, smirks, and walks out of the girls washroom. Before Charlie can wallow in disappointment, the blank gaze of one Brooke Baizen meets her eyes from the reflection.

_Great, more witnesses… _Charlie looks up fearlessly, raising her eyebrows expectantly. Brooke strides towards Charlie, her fiery red hair shimmering in the light that illuminates from the mirror. She doesn't acknowledge Charlie's presence, instead choosing to take out a tube of lip gloss from her purse and running the brush slowly on her bottom lip.

Charlie looks away from the curly haired bitch, turning on the faucet and shutting the drain to let the water build up. She then takes the expensive soap found in the girls washroom and tosses it in the water, with bubbles beginning to form. Charlie looks over the Brooke, who's rubbing her lips together and not paying any attention to Charlie. The ex-foster child unbuttons her white button-up, revealing her dark brown Dolce and Gabbana bustiere that made her full chest look even fuller. She then begins to scrub the fruit and yogurt stains off of her shirt.

Charlie looks at Brooke's reflection, taking in her beauty. Unlike the scheming raven-haired Queen Bee, Lorraine Humphrey and her equally annoying cohorts Elizabeth Wales and Reese Archibald, Brooke didn't possess an ounce of the elegant beauty. Oh no, she possessed that sexy and hot trailer park trash allure, complete with her curvaceous form and Angelina Jolie lips.

_She looks like one of the sluts I'd see my old foster dads bring home when their wives were out for graveyard shifts at the diner. _Instead of looking away when Brooke looked, she kept her gaze tight on hers. There was no reason to be scared or intimidated, despite looking like a scary vixen she was probably nothing more than a weakling.

_Besides, if we ever got in a fight right here I bet she'd complain about breaking a nail, _Thinks Charlie cockily, shaking her head in amusement.

"I don't like you." Says Brooke bluntly, breaking the silence. She doesn't spare Charlie a glance, instead she just begins to apply mascara to her eyelashes.

"That's nice," Responds Charlie simply, her voice dripping with underlying sarcasm.

"Isn't it?" Says Brooke coldly

"Despite my distaste for you, you should know it's nothing personal. I hate everyone." Continues the red head

"That's a healthy lifestyle choice." Snaps the Waldorf-Bass spawn

"Just remember this," Says Brooke slowly, pursing her lips as she slowly slithers closer to Charlie, like a snake waiting to inflict it's venom on her.

"While I may hate everyone, I take an even bigger loathing to girls like you."

"Girls like me?" Brooke scoffs derisively

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Charlotte…" The red head comes nearer to Charlie until their faces are only two heads apart. The brunette can smell the scent of expensive perfume, cherry lipgloss and Vodka from her.

"The _second _you came into the Upper East Side, with your unbelievably beautiful look and your mysterious and heartbroken allure, everyone was scared. Hell, they still are!" Charlie stares into Brooke's eyes

"Why would anyone be scared of me?" Says Charlie in a whisper, careful not to break this rather interesting moment between her and the tough red head.

"Because you have potential Queen Bee streaked on your forehead." Charlie stops breathing before she begins to giggle, despite her attempts to hold it back. Brooke's eyebrows knit together in annoyance, arms crossing as she tries to figure out how anyone could possibly have the nerve to laugh at her.

"Me? _Queen Bee?_" Charlie says sarcastically, shaking her head

"I'd rather shove mascara up my bloody ass before I even _consider _being _Queen Bee!_" Charlie says through her giggles, earning a death glare from the red-headed bitch.

"See, this is why everyone here hates you." Charlie stops laughing, eyes transfixed on Brooke's words.

"_Everyone _here knows you find us all idiotic and, usually, no one would give a damn about what an outsider like _you _would think but somehow they all do. Maybe it's because you're a rebel or because you're tragic, maybe it's even because your Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf's daughter! Point is, everyone, even including me, cared about your criticism of our world."

"I'm sorry, Brooke, but I don't really understand what this has to do with you _hating _me!" Brooke shakes her head, refusing to give up on Charlie.

"My point is, you having ALL the potential in the WORLD to oust Lorraine from the steps of the Met and not doing anything about it, annoys me. I simply hate people who have the power and do nothing about it."

"I hardly have power, Brooke." Grumbles Charlie, lifting her soaked shirt up and squeezing it.

"Well," Brooke says off-handedly "When you finally earn me and Lorraine's respect, it'll be easy enough for you to be Queen."

"I don't care about what you and Lorraine think." Replies Charlie

"You say that now, but soon the humiliation and the indignity and the friendlessness will get to you, and you'll want nothing more." Brooke says simply

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Charlie looks at Brooke, eyebrows raised expectantly

"Because," Brooke begins "I want to be Queen and sadly, I can't be Queen all on my own. Now, you're thinking how I couldn't be, I'm smart and sexy and I'm rather fierce. Well, truth be told, I can't do it on my own…" Brooke looks at her reflection. "No, I couldn't. Why? Because every Queen needs allies, and while I could easily fill up my future court with girls from Constance, none of them are important or good enough. In fact, the only worthy ones are those who I'm about to oust. So then I thought, who can be molded into an ally? An ally so strong and dominant, what would it matter if it was only her by my side? Then, you came along, and something tells me I could have just found my newest friend." Charlie bites her lips, shaking her head.

Charlie's emerald eyes state at Brooke's reflection, trying to figure out if this was some sort of mind game of Brooke's. Brooke's gaze remained cold and blank, similar to the raven-haired Queen Bee.

"We're not friends." States Charlie darkly, taking her shirt and placing it beneath the vent of the hand dryer. Brooke laughs mockingly, turning her Manolo Blahnik black stilettos and walking out the door silently.

"Mr. Bass," The incredibly handsome and notorious Chuck Bass looks up from his business reports on his mahogany desk and up to his assistant Ethan. The recent Columbia alumni and Soccer stud walked in Chuck's office, his earpiece and blackberry instantly making him go from cool and fun to a serious suit within seconds.

"The phones have ringing off the hook, Mr. Bass. The Times, Observer and New York Chronicle would like to cover your rise from your father's death and the surfacing of Charlie." Says Ethan, walking over to Chuck's storage of expensive Scotch and taking out a glass to hand the liquor wasp know as Chuck Bass one.

"No," Says Chuck bluntly

"Also, Peter Skye has the plans for the new Empire Hotel in Milan." Continues Ethan, carefully pouring the scotch with his shaky hands. Being around Chuck Bass always made him nervous

"Good, make sure that their final. I don't want to waste my time reviewing incompetent, amateur sketches of a man with the brain of a five year old girl." Ethan holds back a laugh and places the glass on Chuck's desk.

"Finally, William Winchester has decided not to go through with his agreement to be your partner for the expansion of the Empire to Asia." The tall and muscular assistant turns away from Chuck and tries to make a quick run out of the room to avoid Chuck's notorious temper. Unfortunately, he wasn't so lucky.

"_WHAT?_" Snaps Chuck, standing up in fierce indignation as his eyes bulge out in panic. The expansion of the Empire Hotel is, without a doubt, the biggest and most important step in his career into turning his chain of Empire Hotels into a universal success. And the universe does not exclude Asia!

"Ethan, _have I not stressed to the entire corporation just how important this business deal is? Have I or have I NOT spent MILLIONS of dollars courting William Winchester to invest on the Empire expansion? Have we or have we not been working out asses off for the last five years to make this possible?" _Each syllable that was uttered from Chuck's mouth dripped with annoyance and mockery.

_This can't be happening! The Empire Hotel was meant to be a global success! This is the next step in my legacy as a tycoon mogul! _Chuck thought heavily. This couldn't be right. It just couldn't! William Winchester, proud owner of many lands and connections in Asia, agreed to finance the expansion of his chain of five star hotels. It was only William who could let this happen for the Bass patriarch.

_What could have made him change his mind? _Thinks Chuck in panic, scrambling through his thoughts as to what he could have done.

"Y-yes… Y-you have." Answers Ethan nervously, averting his gaze as to avoid Chuck's piercing death glare.

"Has William Winchester elaborated on the circumstances which drove him to make this decision?" Inquires Chuck, taking down the glass of scotch the Columbia student with the sparkling red hair handed to him.

"Huh?" Ethan breaks out of his thoughts. Chuck slams his fist to the desk.

"WHY THE HELL DID WILLIAM WINCHESTER BACK OUT OF OUR AGREEMENT?" Ethan gulps, clumsily falling down on the leather couch in Chuck's office. Chuck strides to his like a predator, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

"H-he said t-t-that your, ahem, c-contempt for family values was unbearable." Answers Ethan, sweat building up on his forehead

"What was that supposed to mean?" Chuck asks himself, before directing his attention to Ethan yet again.

"B-Blair Waldorf and her d-daughter. H-he said that… Uh… You a-allowing for h-her go g-go through all that trauma and l-letting Blair t-take her in made it clear that you were irresponsible?" Ethan explains hastily, his collar being held up by Chuck's hell-bent hands.

"WHAT?" Chuck drops Ethan's body to the couch and storms out of the office without a word

"Three, two…" _One _mouths the head camera man with the dark black Mohawk and glasses as he points to the well bred Upper East Side resident, Blair Waldorf, who takes her cue and begins speaking to the audience. She fumbles with her hands, which doesn't go unnoticed by the audience and the camera man as she speaks about pigeons in Central Park.

_Channel Audrey Hepburn, Blair… _The famous daytime talk show host internally thinks her mantra over and over again. It was hard enough, summing up the courage to face the audience after the news of her newly found daughter, Charlie Waldorf-Bass.

_I can't believe I actually thought that was scary compared to what I'm about to do… _Blair thinks in fear. It was rare, seeing Blair Waldorf actually scared of confrontation, but it was hard not to be. After all, as Blair grew up in the world of appearing to be perfect and lying to get through the day, she actually did care about what people thought.

Despite her famous persona of being an outright bitch who had a tongue sharper than a blade, she is still secretly the seventeen-year-old Queen Bee of the Upper East Side. She's still insecure, still narcissistic and still concerned about her reputation as ever. So it's needless to say that the public's opinion of her being a cold-hearted witch who gave her beautiful spawn away, making her vulnerable to rape and abuse, scared the living daylights out of her.

"Now, as I'm sure most of you have heard from that trashy blogger Perez Hilton or page six, I would like to take a moment to acknowledge the recent… Happenings in my life." Everyone in the audience, in the studio, is silent in anticipation. Blair never showed any emotions other than distaste and mockery, but to see her actually confront such a sensitive issue was beyond everyone's imagination.

Blair stares at the public announcement that's being run through the small screen for Blair to read out. It's the script the studio has approved, the script that would easily make Blair look like an angel. The script that would transform Chuck Bass from an unknowing father to a heartless man who forced Blair to give Charlie away. The script that would make Blair's daughter, Charlie, look like nothing but a gold digger.

Victoria, her ruthless manager, had suggested this. She suggested that Blair let Chuck and Charlie take the fall for what really is, when you come down to it, Blair's fault. Blair is the bad one. She's the one who gave Charlie away because she couldn't mother her. She's the one who never looked back and continued to live a carefree life. She's the one who never told Chuck.

_I can't do this to them… I can't. I don't care if I come out as the villain, I don't care if I lose my show. I don't care about that, not when the people whom I love are being endangered for it. _

"When Charlotte, or Charlie as everyone calls her, came into my life the first time, I reacted like a teenager who got knocked up on prom night. I thought about me, my goals and dreams. I thought about everything I have yet to accomplish and how she stood in the way of that. I guess I thought of her as the obstacle to the life I had yet to live. So I did what I believed to be the responsible thing to do, I gave her up for adoption. I thought it would be easy, you know? She was a beautiful, darling little girl with my eyes and her father's chin." Blair laughs, nostalgia filling her body.

"I thought that there would be tons and thousands of couples and families lined up to bring her into their families… I thought wrong. She didn't get a family. I can't go into the specifics of it because, aside from the confidentiality terms, I think it would be unfair to her. She's been through more than anyone should and I don't think it's right to reveal to everyone what even she has trouble saying. It's not my life to tell.

"Now, when Charlie came into my life the second time, I was filled with tremendous guilt. Guilt that I don't think I will ever be able to exonerate from myself. I was unprepared for her to come back. Why? Because, like sixteen years ago, I'm still not ready. I can't cook, my maternal instincts are about as strong as an ant and, if I am to be completely honest, I'm still a bitch. I'm not ready but then I thought, when will I ever be? I then realized that I need to do this, to take her in, not just so I could feel relief, but because she's my chance to figure myself out. To figure out my life. If she hadn't come along, I'd still be me. I'd still be horrible and immature. But now, I have a reason to change."

"Charlie is all of my reasons now. I love her and there's nothing I wouldn't do to make her feel safe again." The Constance Billard alumni gulps, unconsciously cracking her knuckles in the process. She looks at the stage manager, who's shaking his head disappointedly. Beside him stands Victoria, looking more cross than ever.

"I'm sorry," Blair looks up from her cracked knuckles to the audience, where a willowy brunette with a long swan-like neck, stands. She places her hands on her dainty hips, scoffing derisively.

"Do you actually think that some corky but deeply genuine speech about you and your issues is going to change the fact that you _abandoned _your daughter and _neglected _to tell her father that she even existed?" Demands the middle aged woman, her bushy eyebrows raised expectantly. Blair stares at her, bewildered as her doe eyes grow wider.

"Well…" Blair stutters nervously, at her wit's end.

"Oh, and look, you're even trying to get yourself out of this so that _you _don't have to feel a tinge of regret over the entire thing!" Snaps another audience member, this time a male clad in a Ralph Lauren polo and whose head shimmers with auburn highlights. He places his hands on his hips, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I do regret the decisions I've made." Blair manages to muster out, despite the scowls and grumbles the audience was sending to her.

"Well, it doesn't even seem like it!" Before further insults can be made to spite the brunette Upper East Side resident the camera man gestured to her, revealing that they went on commercial. Blair stood, biting back the tears about to stream down her eyes, and sprinted off the stage.

"Chuck," Chuck Bass turns around after stepping outside his limo to catch a glimpse of his once-girlfriend and mother of his newly found daughter, Charlie Waldorf-Bass, approach him serenely. Chuck raises an eyebrow, surprised by the rare peacefulness in Blair Waldorf's face.

"Ah, Waldorf, what makes you so bliss?" Inquires Chuck, his voice hoarse and raspy. Blair smirks, shaking her head. "Don't tell me that recent audience outburst on your show is the reason behind that little grin of yours." Snaps Chuck coldly, crossing his arms as he leans back on the door of his limo.

"How do you know about that?" Inquires Blair, her interest piqued. Since when did Chuck Bass care about what happened to her.

"Google alert." Answers Chuck simply. Blair scoffs derisively.

"The truth is that it was sort of relieving. Sure everyone thinks I'm a monster now but at least I got what I truly deserved. I've ran away from my regrets, but now I'm facing it. And, I don't know, I think it could be good for me." Reveals Blair slowly, going through her process of thought.

The Bass patriarch chuckles.

"Or maybe you just like the attention."

"Hmm, you're being awfully bitchy today." Notes the Waldorf matriarch

"It's nothing." Snaps Chuck, stopping her curiosity a mile before she could act on it.

"Hey, look." Blair points to her and Chuck's gorgeous brunette daughter, who's long legs stradled the back of some guy's motorcycle, putting on the spare helmet and hanging on to his waist.

"CHARLIE!" Beckon both Chuck and Blair, only to be ignored.

**AN: Hey, so I know it's been forever since I uploaded a new chapter but I needed to figure out what exactly I wanted to happen next. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	12. Where is she?

Chuck Bass, wealthy entrepreneur and resident womanizer of New York City, was pissed

_That's an understatement… _Thinks Chuck silently, exhaling as he sits on the white leather couch found in Blair's penthouse living room. His hands were intertwined and rested on his stomach. His body lay on the couch as his eyes watch Blair walking around the room in distress.

Chuck was worried, really, he was. It was quite disturbing to see his daughter on the back of a tattooed older male's motorcycle. Yet all he could think about now was his deal with William Winchester going down the drain.

True, since the success of the Empire Hotel a decade ago Chuck easily became one of the most powerful men in New York City. Hell, he was the last word on almost every new business venture of his so-called friends. And yes, it's pretty clear that no one could stop the unstoppable Chuck Bass from getting what he wanted without compromising himself. Yes, maybe all of the previously mentioned was true, but that didn't deviate from the fact that, no matter what, even _he _has to answer to superiors.

"This is absolutely horrible!" Says Blair as she shakes her head and takes a seat on the edge of the couch, burying herself in her hands.

"Would you calm down?" Drawls Chuck irritably. Blair snorts, scrunching her perfectly plucked eyebrows together.

"How can I be calm when _our _daughter has ridden off to who knows where with some filthy mongrel hell bent on taking advantage of _our _daughter!" Yells Blair, raising her hand and slapping Chuck's arm forcefully.

"Waldorf, I know that what with the hot flashes and the being Satan's whore, it might be difficult for _you _to understand, but not everything is about you!" Retorts Chuck, taking Blair's hand and tossing it back to her.

"When was I making this about me, Basshole?" Hisses the Constance Billard Alumni.

"Do you not see how bad this is?" Chuck rolls his eyes

"This isn't bad, this is good!" Blair snorts

"How is this good? For all you know she could be in a ship being sent off to some European brothel by now?" The raven-haired male shakes his head

"She's with that Kyle boy." The Waldorf matriarch turns her head to him, bewildered.

"Who's Kyle?" Inquires the brunette Audrey Hepburn enthusiast. Chuck looks into Blair's doe eyes.

"Kyle, her childhood friend."

"But isn't he, like, twenty-five?"

"No, he's twenty."

"And how is this not troubling?"

"Troubling?" Asks Chuck, sitting and eyeing her in confusion.

"Yes, he's twenty! I know that you dozed off in Calculus for most of High School but surely even you know that sixteen and twenty is a steep difference!" Chuck halts for a second, thinking about this. He knew that there was an age difference, but he never gave it much thought. After all, they are just friends, right? Didn't Charlie say so herself that day at the Empire State Building.

But then again… Didn't she also say that she and Kyle are in love? In that deep, complex and irrevocable sense? Didn't she say that she liked winning him over? That they were both quite attracted to each other?

Chuck was more than mildly confused now. Was this part of being a father? Being scared that your teenage girl will be willingly de-virginized by some undeserving man? No, he's over-reacting. Bart or Harold never cared about him and Blair having hot heavy sex in between classes. Hell, none of the Upper East Side parents ever did! So why should he be concerned?

_Because you or any other guy on the Upper East Side was never twenty with a motor cycle and STDs? _Retorts Chuck's mind. His eyes bulge in worry.

"Oh… no…"

XoXo

"Hey Blair, what's up?" Asks Blair Waldorf's longtime best friend and once-rival Serena Van Der Woodsen-Archibald, supermodel and matriarch to the powerful Archibald household. She steps into the foyer of Chuck Bass' bachelor suite, where both he and Blair relocated so that the Non-Judging Breakfast Club could convene.

"What's up is that Charlie decided to run off unexpected, that's what's up!" Says Blair, clearly stressed out about the whole thing. Serena nods, placing a sympathetic hand on Blair's shoulder, only to be shrugged off.

"What am I going to do?" Asks Blair in panic.

"Maybe we can track her using her cell phone." Suggests Chuck, picking up his house phone. Blair and Serena look over at him, eyebrows raised in speculation.

"You can do that?" Asks the leggy blond. All her life she knew Chuck and Blair to be master schemers and stalkers, but if Chuck actually had the power to track someone down using their cell phone, Serena would be really spooked.

"Don't you think you're taking this too far, Chuck?" Nathaniel Archibald asks, entering Chuck's apartment, still clad in his usual work attire. Chuck and Blair avert their gazes to the Archibald, eyebrows raised. When did they _ever _not take things too far?

"But she doesn't even have a cell phone, does she?" Asks Serena. Blair and Chuck look at her this time, as if she'd grown another heart-shaped, blond haired head. Serena shrugs innocently.

"How does anyone _not _have a cell phone?" Blair asks herself. She's had a cell phone since she was six! Everyone did nowadays. Chuck sighs, slamming the phone down and rubbing his temples.

"Well was she with anyone?" Nate asks his ex-girlfriend and his best friend, handing Blair a nonfat soy cappuccino from Starbucks and Chuck his usual Green Tea. He and Serena spare a glance at each other, a week into this parenting thing and it was quite obvious that Chuck and Blair were far from resourceful.

If it were Riley or Rhyze or Reese who had gone missing, both Serena and Nate would have found them easily or have at least scouted every viable location that could come to mind. And it was apparent, Chuck and Blair haven't.

_Not that we can blame them, _Thinks Serena. After all, a week ago Blair was an immature serial monogamist and Chuck was a cold-hearted womanizer. They weren't ready to be parents. In fact, neither one of their parental instincts have kicked in since then. It was only understandable, which is why both she and Nate have agreed to assist their two best friends through this new stage in their lives.

"Her friend, Kyle." Answers Chuck and Blair in unison.

"Okay, does he have a cell phone?" Chuck and Blair look at each other, before shrugging. Nate sighs, taking a seat beside Chuck. He pats his best friend on the back, trying his best to console him without making Chuck put up his defenses. The Bass man's eyebrows were squished together pensively and his jaw was clenched. Nate knew that look. It was the look of worry.

"Maybe we're blowing this out of proportion. Maybe she just wanted to see some old friends." Considers Serena, looking at Nate for support.

"Or maybe she's being held captive in an apartment being raped by that Kyle boy!" Snaps Blair, clearly losing her mind at the thought of it.

"Kyle is not _that _bad." Chuck tells Blair. Blair turns to him, curious.

"How would you know?"

"I met him that day Charlie and I went to the Empire State Building." Chuck reveals. What he never told Blair, what he never told anyone, was that she was wrong. She always was. She thought that he didn't want a future with her. She thought that he, Chuck Bass, didn't want to commit. What she didn't know was that, on that day, he was planning to commit to her for the rest of his life. Maybe even after that.

But then she left him and he got shot at Prague, and somehow, Chuck never revisited the prospect ever again. Especially after everything the two of them have been through.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Chuck shrugs, choosing not to tell Blair about his and Charlie's impromptu visit to the Bronx, where the miniature Blair/Chuck led him to her friends' apartment, consisting of Kyle and two other male mechanics in the city. He had met them, and though they were silent and unmoving, he could see that they were on their best behavior, for them.

"Bass, this is just unacceptable! We're her parents! We can't just let things slip! Don't you see just how bad this is?" Yells Blair, standing up and placing her hands on her hips, her voice loud.

"Really? Well then what about the fact that _you _forced her to go to Constance in the first place? You know for a fact that Charlie didn't want to go there!" Reminds the Bass male, venom seething from his unusually mean voice.

"It's not about what she wants it's about what she needs! Do you actually think that agreeing to let Charlie continue going to school at that _public school_ would have been good for her?" Retorts the female brunette

"Better than making her feel like an outsider! She's accustomed to those kids! Not with the likes of Lorraine Humphrey and her batch of minions! She's not you, Blair! She's not a power-hungry, ambitious, elitist perfectionist!" Blair scoffs derisively

"And I suppose you think that she's like you? If you haven't noticed Charlie doesn't possess your qualities, either. She's not cold and cowardly or self destructive!" Chuck rolls her eyes.

"Please, spare me the melodramatic rant. You know just as well that Charlie possesses more of me. Why do you think she runs away so much? Why do you think she never talks about her past?" Demands Chuck, annoyed by Blair putting this on him.

"Because she's been through hell, Chuck! It's natural considering what she's been through, unlike you." Blair says the last sentence silently, hoping that Chuck won't pick up on it.

"Unlike me?"

"Never mind." Snaps Blair

"No, say it." Urges Chuck

"Fine, you want me to say it?"

"Isn't that what I just asked from you?" Blair scoffs

"Ever since I have met you, you've been nothing more than cold and distant and emotionally corrupt!"

"So?"

"So, while Charlie may have the same characteristics, their within reason. What about you, Chuck? What reason do you have for being whiny and _tragic_? What, Bart didn't love you enough? Elizabeth lied to you? WHAT CHUCK? What reason do you have for being a narcissistic asshole!" As the words slip out of Blair's mouth, she feels each word hitting Chuck below the belt. Blair knew that all those things were sensitive topics to the 40-year-old womanizer. She also didn't give a damn.

Out of the corner of Blair's eye, she can see Serena and Nate exchanging 'what do we say?' glances. Chuck turns to Blair, eyes blazing with anger and indignation.

"At least I didn't have to stick my finger down my throat for most of my adolescence."

Everyone grows silent, and Chuck knows he's won the battle of mean, personal comments.

XoXo

Charlie Waldorf-Bass drops her Chanel blue-black backpack on one of the empty seats at the very top of the Empire State Building, plopping herself right beside it. She extends her long and smooth legs on the seat in front of her. The beautiful brunette leans her head back, taking a look at the sky, which was now a mixture of orange and blue and grey. From the look of it, it was almost six.

Beside her sits Kyle Ho, her Vietnamese childhood best friend, who lit up a cigarette from the pack of cigarettes he's stolen from the convenience store run by a balding African-American man while he wasn't looking. Charlie tries to suppress a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

This was what Charlie longer for, an ounce of familiarity. She and Kyle sitting at the top of the Empire State Building, smoking stolen cigarettes or pot and sharing a bottle of tequila (also stolen) as they stare at the city turn from day to night together. It makes her feel calm, like everything she had gone through was nothing more than a fading memory. This is Charlie's emotional outlet, even if all she and Kyle did is throw sarcastic remarks at each other.

Kyle hands Charlie the half-empty bottle of tequila after he had chugged it. Charlie took her cigarette out of her mouth and placed it between the fingers of her left hand, using her right hand to down the contents of the bottle.

"I can't believe you're actually wearing that _thing_." Comments Kyle, raising his eyebrows as he checks out Charlie's body being covered by a conservative and preppy Constance Billard uniform, trying to find it in his heart to not burst into laughter or tears. Already Charlie has began to drift away from him. Suddenly, she's friends with some blond Abercrombie and Fitch model and living in a penthouse with her famous mother and sharing the Empire State Building with her notorious father.

"I know," Says Charlie casually. She places the bottle on her lap, holding it up using her hand, and places the cigarette back into her mouth.

"I thought I lost you that day." Mutters Kyle quietly, his tough Asian face being covered by his long straight outgrown bangs. When Charlie doesn't respond, he takes the bottle of tequila from her hands and chugs more of it, hoping that the sting of Charlie being so apathetic about the whole thing would drift away from his memory.

"You did lose me… Maybe not all of me, but you've definitely proven to me that… You can't be my everything anymore." Charlie says slowly, trying her best to avoid Kyle erupting.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Asks Kyle. He shakes his hair away from his eyes as he stares at Charlie longingly.

"Wasn't that how it always was with us? We didn't need anyone else, we have each other!" Kyle reminds Charlie, placing the bottle of tequila on the ground and turning to Charlie.

_He's begging me to reassure him. He's begging me to say he's right about everything. He's begging me to just be his and only his. _Charlie has known Kyle for so long she can read him like an open book. And she's reading every emotion the handsome and muscular thug is emitting.

"What are you trying to say, Charlie?"

"If you would pay attention, you'd notice that I haven't really said anything yet." The newly enrolled Constance Billard student quips wittily.

"Charlie, don't give me that bull." Snaps Kyle. "What are you trying to say?" He asks forcefully.

"All I'm saying is that when I saw you pull out a blade and threaten to hurt my friend, you scared me. Not in that 'what if you hurt me?' sense, no, I know you never would. You scared me by making me realize that you're ALL I have. I-I need balance, Kyle… I need to love someone else, you know? I need to care about someone else and not devote all of myself to you!" Kyle stares at her, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Where the hell is all of this coming from, Charlie? W-what? Are you s-saying you wanna be like these dumb pussys you go to school with? Y-you wanna go attend polo matches and drink tea, now?" Kyle says, ignoring Charlie as she flinches at Kyle's vulgar language.

"All I'm saying is that I need balance!"

"And how are you gonna get that balance, hmm? Are you going to start wearing eighteen hundred dollar high heels and go off to the Bahamas every weekend? Is that how you're gonna get balance? Because I'm telling you this, Charlie, you're not gonna be happy. You'll never be! Want to know what? Because you're just like me and Xavier and Felix! You're just stupid and fucked up and worthless! So the sooner you figure that out and come back home, the better."

Charlie bites her lip, stopping herself from saying anything more. If she did, then she swears she would lose Kyle forever, and she wasn't ready to lose him just yet.

"This isn't as fun as it used to be." Grumbles Charlie, standing up from her seat and grabbing her backpack from the ground. Kyle stares at her, baffled.

"C'mon, Charlie. Don't be so immature." _Says the guy who started the whole argument? _

"I'm not." Answers Charlie stubbornly. "I should leave." Charlie says bluntly. Kyle rolls his eyes, standing up and taking Charlie by the arm, turning her towards him. She looks at him expectantly, her doe eyes wide with anticipation.

"I don't want to lose you, Charlie." The Vietnamese mechanic whispers, stroking her jaw with his rough, hardworking hand. He pulls her closer to his body, inhaling her scent. She bites the bottom of her lip, nodding slowly.

"You're never going to." Says Charlie, the words flowing out of her mouth instinctively. She wraps her dainty arms around his neck and then places her head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her, doing the same as she has. They stay in this position for so long, both scared that once they let go of each other, reality and time will come to play and they'll have to part ways. Charlie takes one last deep breathe before pulling away from his grasp.

"Charlie," Kyle mutters, nodding to two familiar figures standing behind Charlie. She follows his gaze until her own gaze lands on her biological parents standing side by side, staring at the two with deep interest.

"Chuck, Blair." Charlie acknowledges, walking towards them.

"So this is where you snuck off to." States Blair, an edge in her voice.

"I didn't sneak anywhere. You two saw me get on Kyle's motorcycle." Says Charlie off handedly

"It's not like we could have stopped you from leaving now could we?" Charlie rolls her eyes at Blair. One week of having the infamous talk show host for a mother and already she's getting admonished for actions which would have been completely acceptable.

"This is pathetic, you know that right?" Blair edges closer to Charlie, staring straight into her identical eyes. Chuck, realizing that a confrontation would brew, places his two arms on their stomachs, parting them by motioning his arms similar to the red sea for Moses.

"Charlie, what Blair over here means is that we would like to be notified of your whereabouts and when we can expect you to return to mine or Blair's apartments at all times… W-we don't know you that well yet, w-were not exactly aware of where your friends live or where you hang out so it's not that easy for us to chase you down… Charlie, we just wanted to make sure you were safe." Chuck says rationally. He knows that Charlie is like him and, therefore, Chuck knew to be as careful as possible. One wrong word could make her put up her defenses.

"You don't have to worry, I can take care of myself."

"That may be, but you don't have to anymore." Says Blair softly, reaching for Charlie's shoulder.

"I-I know…" Stutters Charlie, smiling softly at Blair. Charlie snorts, laughing at the tears, caused by their many emotions, flowing down hers and Blair's faces. Bair holds Charlie close to her in a form of a hug, chuckling at the very scene. She never felt like a mother her whole life but now, after going through something normal mothers would go through everyday, she did. And now she realizes that it's a good feeling, even if it did come with grief. Chuck, who watches on the scene, can't help but shake his head in fake annoyance.

"You two look like idiots." He says bluntly

"Well you _are _an idiot." Blair deadpans. Chuck scoffs, putting his arms around the two.

"Am not." He says stubbornly

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Guys," Charlie breaks the silence, laughing as she wipes the tears off her eyes. "As much as I love this little fight/conversation thing you two are having, I need to get home. I mean, even after washing my hair four times with soap and water, my hair still smells like Yogurt."

"You got milked?" Asks Blair, appalled

"M-milked?" Says Charlie, unsure if that was what Blair had said.

"Don't worry, everyone gets yogurt purposely dropped on their scalp. Even the all mighty Queen Bee over here." The Bass patriarch remarks, pointing to Blair who scowls at the thought.

"Chuck, out daughter just got milked, this isn't the time to fondly look back on our favorite high school moments." Snaps Blair

"You know, I'd actually wanna hear that story." Charlie pipes in.

"It's a great one." Chuck assures her, earning a fierce death glare from his former girlfriend.

"Charlie, who milked you?" Presses Blair

"Ugh, Lorraine Humphrey." Reveals Charlie, earning a scoff from Chuck

"How am I not surprised? That girl is a bigger narcissistic bitch than your mother."

"Really, Chuck? What's with bombarding me with insults today?" Blair asks, eyeing Chuck and hoping he sees the double meaning in her words. He does.

"You're right. I'm sorry." Apologizes Chuck sincerely

"Aww," Charlie gushes mockingly, stepping away from Chuck's arm as she stands in front of both of them and makes a heart shape with her hands.

"Alright, enough of this. I made us dinner at home."

"Dinner?" Snorts Charlie "You tried to make grilled cheese and forgot to take it out of the plastic." Charlie reminds her mother

"I didn't _see _the plastic covering it! Its see through after all." Blair tries pathetically

"Don't worry, she ordered in." Chuck says casually

"Really?" Asks Charlie as she and Blair walk to the exit together.

"Yes, plus Dorota is making some polish dessert." Chuck hears Blair says from a distance. He looks back to where Charlie and Kyle were, only to realize that Kyle was watching the scene the whole time. He approaches Kyle, who just nods in his direction.

"Thank you, Kyle."

"For what?" Asks the younger male

"For being there for Charlie"

"I'll always be there for her." Chuck nods. He believes him

XoXo

**Author's Note: Hey, here's the next chapter. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review, I really want to know what you guys are thinking? Also, based on what you've seen, what OC character do you like the most and why? I'm trying to figure out who should make more appearances in the story. Similarly, who do you think Charlie should end up with? Idealistic and free-spirited Riley, dark and psychotic Rhyze or brooding and violent Kyle? REVIEW!**


	13. Part of your world

_My dark eyes are fixated on the slender yet curvaceous figure standing in front of me. I can just imagine her silk thong slowly sliding down from her bottom to her feet. I can already feel the touch of her soft bosom in my hands__; the overpriced, red silk bra barely covered them from my sight.. My mouth waters as my male genitalia quickly responds to the image._

_I teasingly and slowly walk towards him like cat woman, my ruby red lips pursed in pleasure. I can tell from the way he stares at my lingerie-clad body that I affect him in every way possible. Oh, how I missed seeing Chuck Bass whimper at the sight of me. It made me feel empowered. It made me feel wanted._

_I can't fight back the feeling of pure, adulterated desire as I leap out of my comfortable seat on Blair's lavish bed, and rush towards her._

_He takes me by the waist and passionately shoves me to the leather couch I had brought back from Milan after I visited my Father and Roman._

_And Blair, being stubborn and controlling, gets up from her seat and pushes me back down on the couch._

_I straddle him, and I instantly feel his erection through his expensive pants. I smirk, taking pleasure in his._

_I can see her enjoying her power over me. I bite back a smirk. I could easily make her whimper with one touch …_

_He can't hold it in anymore, literally. He slips my Victoria's Secret thong off and tosses it to the ground. He slips out of his own pants and doesn't hesitate to enter me._

_She moans as I enter her. I go in and out in a steady rhythm, before picking up the pace._

"_Oh my… C-chuck," I whimper in desire. He silences me by taking my lips and placing them on his own. I push his lips down when I reach my climax._

"_Oh my!"_

XoXo

Blair Waldorf's perfectly toned body falls to the carpeted ground of her master suite, sweat trickling down her forehead from the wet fantasy that kept her sweating and moaning all night. Her mouth is left ajar from the bizarre scene that crept its way to her imagination.

I never felt that hot since I screwed Brad Pitt after an interview… Thinks Blair as she tries to regain her sanity. How could she have dreamt of her and Chuck Bass having sex? The brunette talk show host knows that she and Chuck are never going to happen again! She knows that so well, in fact, that she barely gets high off his scent or voice like she did sixteen years ago.

Relax, Blair. It was just a dream. You've dreamt about you and Serena… Blair's frantic thoughts are cut off by the double doors of her suite opening, the light from outside hurting Blair's eyes.

At the doorway stands Charlie Waldorf Bass, who has spent the last five minutes listening into Blair's bedroom and trying to figure out whether or not her mother could have possibly had someone over last night. To her immediate relief, she didn't catch her mother and a stranger horizontal and sweaty. And she was relieved, until she thought about the possible erotic dream Blair could have been having. Oh, how she wished she had never woken up this early in the day.

"Hey," Charlie greets her mother, walking towards her with a bowl of cereal in her right hand. Blair looks up at her, disheveled. The elder brunette laughs awkwardly, standing up from her less than appropriate position on the floor.

"Do I want to know?" Inquires Charlie, eyes raised expectantly. Blair laughs nervously.

"No, I don't think you do…" The younger Waldorf nods, understanding.

"W-what are you doing up so early?" Asks the talk show host, walking to her extravagant washroom. She stands in front of the Victorian-styled sink and takes an elastic band and headband to tie her perfectly curled brown hair back.

"Couldn't sleep," Murmurs Charlie quietly. Blair already knew she would be up early. It seems that she usually always is, and Blair knows why. Still, the Constance Billard alumnus is aware that Charlie, admittedly, is a lot like her father. You come too close to her pain and she runs, and Blair didn't want to make her run.

"Ah, well at least we can have breakfast together, right?" Charlie nods, taking another bite of her cereal.

"Didn't Dorota prepare you anything?" asks Blair, her eyebrows narrowing.

"Oh, yeah she did but I don't really like all that fancy yogurt and parfait stuff," says Charlie nonchalantly.

"So…" the ex-foster child trails off. "Who were you dreaming of?" Blair's wet face immediately turns to her, wetting Charlie's tattered Guns and Roses T-shirt. Blair rubs her face dry with the towel right beside her hurriedly.

"Um, just…" What am I going to say? Oh, I was just dreaming about your beloved father and me jamming our genitals together? She thinks sarcastically.

"Just… Um, is it appropriate to talk to you about this kind of stuff? Doesn't it go against some kind of mother-making-sex-look-terryfying-in-order-to-prevent-her-daughter-from-getting-deflowered rule?" The younger brunette chuckles.

"Firstly, I was raped when I was a kid, I know it's terrifying."

Blair winces.

"Secondly, I think we're far from conventional." Blair laughs.

"Okay, well, to tell you the truth, I was having a rather… Hot dream."

"With who?"

"Um… This waiter from Fred's at Barney's," lies Blair through gritted teeth.

XoXo

Chuck Bass and his daughter, Charlie Waldorf-Bass, approach the extravagant and elite Constance Billard Academy for girls after a 15-minute walk from the Waldorf penthouse, where both Chuck and Blair came to the agreement that Charlie is to live with the female Waldorf with the compromise being that she carries the Bass name.

Chuck glances over at Charlie, whose white Oxford shirt that was once pressed to perfection is now wrinkled. Charlie steps in front of him, smiling politely.

"Okay, I think this is good," mutters the brunette.

"You sure you don't need me to escort you in? I know for a fact that these girls are nothing more than insipid gossip hungry whores," says Chuck, rolling his eyes as two senior girls giggle as they smile flirtatiously towards the Empire Hotel CEO's direction. Charlie follows Chuck's gaze, snorting.

"No, I think I can handle it," says Charlie, smirking as she waves to Chuck before walking through the black iron gates that serve as the entrance for Constance Billard and Saint Judes and into the main courtyard.

"Charlie." Charlie smirks, recognizing the voice that calls her. She looks around the courtyard, avoiding the curious gazes and suggestive glances the girls of Constance Billard and the males of Saint Judes send in her direction respectively. Finally, she sees Riley Cornelius Archibald, the only person in all of Manhattan that she can actually call her friend.

It's not that Charlie isn't aware of Riley's idealistic crush on her, she is. She can tell from the way he stares at her, whether it's when they're talking in the hallway before third period or eating lunch with the rest of Riley's Saint Judes classmates and companions. _Yes, I know he likes me… _She thinks silently as she lifts her hand and waves awkwardly.

Beside him, Charlie instantly realizes, is Rhyze William Archibald, Riley's seemingly perfect and extremely intelligent identical twin brother. The elder twin turns away from a conversation with Derrek Humphrey, a handsome curly-haired senior, to follow his younger brother's gaze. He catches Charlie's eyes, his eyes glinting with mischief as he winks to her.

Charlie snorts, rolling her eyes as the handsome blond smirks. Oh, how the gorgeous emerald-eyed beauty wishes that he would stop sending shivers up her spine every time he looks at her. She can feel herself getting weak-kneed, and so when Riley, Rhyze and their group of handsome over-achievers come over, her first initial action is to fall into Riley's waiting arms in a the form of a hug.

Unknown to the Waldorf-Bass spawn, it is actually Rhyze's waiting arms that she falls into. Under normal circumstances, Charlie could easily tell the difference from the identical twins simply by their facial expressions or coats. But she avoided both of their faces, and for some reason both are wearing maroon colored jackets.

Riley scoffs jokingly, crossing his arms as he feigns a hurt expression. Not to say that he isn't hurt, oh no, he is way past hurt. How could the future love his life, his muse, his angel possibly mistake his older twin for him? _Maybe because you two are twins? _Mocks a voice in the blond rebel's head. Still, that isn't the point. The point is that, after one _month _of being friends, he already assumes that she could not only tell the difference between him and Rhyze, but she would feel that magnetic pull he did whenever she is in close proximity.

"Why Charlie, I didn't know you felt this way," Rhyze Archibald jokes, his blue-green eyes taking in her petite body and unknowingly seductive pink lips. It is needless to say that the tall brunette could attract him on looks alone, but even Rhyze knows that it takes more than good looks to keep his attention. After all, he's been with both Lorraine Humphrey and Brooke Baizen, two of the most beautiful and stunning girls on the island, and they still haven't managed to keep his attention.

"Sorry," says Charlie, pulling away from his arms awkwardly. She can feel her cheeks turn to crimson, laughing awkwardly as she looks towards Riley.

"I thought he was you," she reveals. Riley laughs good-naturedly, his feelings of disappointment vaporizing into oblivion without another thought. Simply the mixture of innocence and embarrassment on her face is enough to make him forget everything.

_Right, because booze or weed couldn't do that? _Riley tells himself sarcastically before walking closer to the green-eyed wonder and lifting her up from the ground and onto his shoulder, like he did on the first day. His friends, minus his brother, laugh as Riley whirls her around. Everyone in the courtyard and in the school hallways watch on enviously. Oh, how every girl wishes that she could be that beautiful and that well-liked by the alpha males. And it's even unexplainable how much nearly every guy in that courtyard wishes that they had the strength and charm to hold up the most attractive girl around.

Riley drops Charlie, who's laughing loudly as she tries to catch her breathe. Once she does, she slaps his arm.

"Really, Riley?" she snaps breathlessly. Riley shrugs nonchalantly, raising his hand and receiving high fives from Derrek, Penn and Anton Humphrey-Wales, who recently stepped out of a cab only to see Riley whirl the brunette around. Rhyze, on the other hand, simply keeps his arms closed and gaze blank as he stands on the sidelines.

"You coming tonight?" Penn Sparks, son of wealthy heiress Georgina Sparks, asks Charlie.

"What's going on tonight?"

"Anton's having a pool party," answers Derrek as he and Penn laugh mischievously, both wrapping their arms around Anton's neck. Anton rolls his eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance flicking from his eyes.

"It's not like I have a choice," Anton answers simply and quietly, like he always does. Unlike Derrek and Penn who are both funny and obnoxious, Anton preferred to be silent and avoid trouble like Derrek and Penn always did.

"Come on, Anton! You're the only one with the pool in your basement!" chides Riley, subtly wrapping his arm around Charlie. She yelps, backing away from Riley's arm. All five of the Saint Judes students raise their eyebrows in bewilderment, including Rhyze.

"I don't like being touched without being told," mutters Charlie, her snow-white skin turning pink. Derrek and Penn break out into a fit of loud, shrill laughter, squishing Anton in the process. Rhyze chuckles, crossing his arms as he imagines pulling Charlie into a hot tub at a ski lodge in Aspen. He can just imagine her full chest against his. He can already smell her sweet-scented hair and minty breathe. He can imagine her hot kisses trailing down…

"Rhyze, you okay?" inquires the younger Archibald twin, interrupting Rhyze's erotic daydream by placing a hand on his shoulder. The elder blond flinches at Riley's oh-so "concerned" touch and shakes him off. When Riley fuses his eyebrows together, confused, Rhyze sends him a curt nod and a forced smile and forces him to drop it. Riley obliges without hesitation.

"You know how my dad is," Anton tells Derrek and Penn, who continue to pester the blond in between them. "He already gets upset when you four come over to _drop off my things_, more so if the entire student body came to violate our pool," explains Anton rationally. Derrek groans, pulling away from Anton.

"What are we gonna do? Swim in a fountain?" snaps Derrek

"Didn't you get drunk off wine coolers and jump in the fountain at Central Park and sing Living On A Prayer by Bon Jovi once?" asks Penn, eyebrows fused together as he recalls the eldest Humphrey son's actions.

"What's your point?" Derrek replies.

"What if we have your party at the Empire?" The Waldorf-Bass spawn pipes in, earning all of their attention.

"Really?" Rhyze asks.

"W-why not? I mean, Chuck has a pool there, right?" All five boys turn to each other in thought.

"I thought it was for guests only," mutters Anton.

"Her father _owns _the hotel," Riley points out before turning back to Charlie. "You think he'll actually be cool with you having a party tonight?"

Charlie whips out her iPhone, a gift from Chuck after she had vanished into thin air on her first day at school, and dials his number. Within seconds, he picks up the phone.

"Charlie?" she hears Chuck say in confusion

"Hey, you got a sec?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way to a meeting with William Winchester, I told you about him, right?" Charlie thinks back to her and Chuck's conversation about the vicious and traditional Southern business tycoon who ruined Chuck's dreams of his hotel expanding to Asia.

"You did… Um, is it okay if I have a party tonight?" Charlie hears a beep before her mother's familiar voice comes into the conversation.

"What, Chuck? I have a five minute break before I have to go on again," hisses Blair Waldorf.

"Charlie's asking about having a party and while I would easily oblige, last time I agreed to let her go out without asking you locked me in the linen closet for thirty minutes," drawls the Bass entrepreneur

"Really? A party, Charlie?" says Blair, surprised.

"Yeah, it was originally Anton's but he said he couldn't because of his dad." Both Blair and Chuck think back to Jenny Humphrey-Wales' cold and introverted older husband. With his conventional ways and rude behaviour, it only makes sense.

"Where do you plan to have it?" asks Blair

"I was hoping I could have it at the Empire," mutters Charlie, bracing herself for loud screams from the two, like she would receive from her ex-foster parents every time she had someone over. Instead, it remained silent.

"The pool, I suppose?" Chuck asks

"Exactly, actually," answers Charlie

"Then I'll call up the head chef right now and ask that he gets to work with the food," Chuck says casually

"What about theme, Charlie?"

Charlie rakes her brain. _A theme, really? Is that really necessary? _

"I don't know."

"Well then I'll go to the pool right after work to call upon my florist and decorators and maybe even a band," Blair continues nonchalantly

"All this trouble for a pool party? Can't we just order pizza or something?" Blair and Chuck both snort at the same time and Charlie's seemingly preposterous suggestion.

"Maybe if you want to be like those tacky, suburban middle-class teenagers," admonishes Blair, not at all hiding her resentment for Charlie's standards for a Waldorf soiree. Charlie rolls her eyes, reminding herself that she is dealing with two of the biggest spoiled brats in the history of Manhattan.

"Okay, so… I'll see you guys later." Charlie is about to hang up when she hears Blair's voice.

"We'll go get you a dress and a bikini later."

"Bikini? What are you teaching her, B?" snaps Chuck

"Fine, _a swimsuit_," Blair drawls. Charlie hangs up, not wanting to get caught up in another one of Chuck and Blair's infamous banters that seem to always end up with someone hanging up the phone. She whirls around to the expectant gazes of the 'brotherhood', as they like to call themselves.

"They said yes," the brunette answers them.

"YES!" Penn and Derrek say simultaneously, grinning enthusiastically. Riley runs up to the very top of the outdoor staircase on the middle of the courtyard with Rhyze following after him silently. The younger blond whistles loudly, catching everyone's attention.

"HEY! LISTEN UP!" hollers Riley charismatically, amazing Charlie with his ability to simply demand attention and get it.

"Pool party tonight at the Empire, courtesy of the gorgeous Charlotte Bass," Rhyze says to everyone. Charlie smiles, only for that smile to turn into a smug smirk when she sees Lorraine Humphrey and Elizabeth Humphrey-Wales glaring daggers directly at Charlie. Beside them stands Reese, silently watching her brothers.

"Not a bad way to launch yourself up the social rankings, Bass," whispers Brooke Baize as she slithers past Charlie and towards her friends.

XoXo

"For a Miss Charlotte Bass?" Charlie turns away from one of the many black orchid flower arrangements to her father's personal assistant Ethan, who hold a black body bag in one hand and a shoebox in another.

"What's this?" she asks, taking the items from his grasp

"Your dress, swimsuit, shoes and accessories," Ethan answers. "Mister Bass asked that I send them over," he informs her. Behind him, Charlie recognizes Blair's own female assistant sprint towards her with the exact same items.

"Charlotte, your mother wanted me to drop off your outfit for your party," Tayla Fitzpatrick, her biological mother's frumpy red-head assistant informs her. Charlie groans, stressed out about the entire party. She knows that this party is her chance to no longer be seen as a weird, low class foster child that everyone makes her out to be.

_That's why it has to be perfect__,_ Charlie thinks, releasing the dress from the body bag's clutches only to come face-to-face with an ultra conservative and vintage beige dress that would presumably end at her ankles. The dress, Charlie could sense, was a way for Chuck to prevent her from being gaped at like a piece of meat by horny and persuasive teenage boys. Charlie winces, reaching for the unflattering dark blue swimsuit he picked out.

"Definitely not," she snaps, handing the dress back to Ethan.

"Chuck isn't going to be happy about this," the male assistant whimpers. The green-eyed girl ignores him and turns to the dress that Blair had sent over. After releasing it from the body bag's clutches, she comes upon a classy but sexy forest green V-neck dress that would end right above her knee. She smiles, pulling out the bikini attached. It was silver with a simple cut and strings on the sides.

The young Waldorf-Bass spawn smiles, taking the dress and the shoes from Tayla. She looks around, admiring her first party. She imagined hers to be slightly different. She would be living in a run-down apartment in the Bronx after she graduated from high school. The apartment would be decorated with tacky balloons and streamers and the music would be played from her second hand iPod. She could just see only Kyle, his friends and Lily over, no one more.

Now, here she is, on the rooftop of the Empire Hotel. At the center for her party is a large swimming pool. Surrounding it is arrangements of black orchid flowers, Japanese lanterns attached to the protective walls, a stage where Charlie is informed that a band would begin an hour into the party, a dance floor, a table of sweets and a sushi bar.

_I guess this is pretty awesome, _Charlie can't help but admit. The party was beyond anything but simple, it's extravagant and beautiful.

XoXo

Within fifty minutes of the brotherhood arriving, nearly the entire Constance Billard/Saint Judes crowd arrives on the Empire Hotel rooftop along with them. Music was blasting from the speakers as the girls swayed to the music on the dance floor. Others sat in front of the sushi bar, waiting for exquisite Japanese sushi and taking picture of the entire event.

Derrek Humphrey and Penn Sparks jump into the pool together, fully clothed. Once they float up to the surface, they turn to Charlie, who is decked out in the dress Blair had chosen for her.

"Charlie, where's the booze?" asks Penn, looking around the rooftop.

_Fuck, why didn't I think about that? _she scolds herself mentally. As if on cue, Riley and Rhyze Archibald roll in a crate. Riley leans over to open the crate as Rhyze struts over to Charlie.

"We brought some alcohol, fire cracker." Rhyze muses smoothly.

"Thanks, I guess," replies Charlie casually. Rhyze raises a blond eyebrow.

"Why am I getting the impression that you don't want me here?" he whispers.

"Because you're a delusional, pompous sadist, hell bent on seducing me so that you can hurt your brother, who, by the way, idolizes you," accuses the brunette hurriedly. Luckily, she's saved from the elder Archibald twin's dark gaze by Riley beckoning her over to the pyramid of Martini glasses. Charlie curtly turns away from Rhyze and over to Riley.

As Charlie approaches the handsome sunflower blond, she's reminded of just how handsome he is with a smile on his face. Somehow, he just looks so charming and sweet yet fun at the same time. His entire personality contradicted Rhyze's, she notices. He pulls away from Anton Humphrey-Wales, who can't help but check out Charlie's petite frame covered in nothing but a silver bikini that made her porcelain skin look even richer.

"You clean up good," muses Riley stepping away from Anton's side to slither his hands around Charlie's waist and pull her into a tight hug. Charlie tries not to stare at Riley's hard six-pack for too long. She doesn't want to give him the impression that she felt anything for him, after all. She pulls away from his grasp, only to inspect his shirt.

"The Killers?" asks Charlie, her fingers touching the pitch-black muscle shirt that the Archibald son is wearing. He smiles, falling even deeper in love with Charlie. For the past month, they had been spending every single moment together; before school, during school, after school and sometimes even the weekends. Oh yes, it was bliss for him. He got to know her and what made her tick and each thing he learned about her made him fall deeper and deeper in love. From the way she had her coffee: half coffee and half milk with a teaspoon of brown sugar, to the way her melodious laugh sounded to his ears. And he could tell by the way that she tries to pry him off as soon as he comes around that she is beginning to feel something more than just 'friendship' as she likes to say.

"Yeah, I met them once," he answers coolly, trying to bite back a proud smirk when Charlie drops her jaw

"You _met _The Killers?"

"Yeah, Penn gave me VIP tickets and a backstage pass for my birthday two years ago and when I met them we exchanged numbers. Now every time they're in the city we hang out," says Riley nonchalantly, smiling at the sparkle in Charlie's green orbs.

"That's so amazing," Charlie murmurs.

"It is." he looks into her eyes, challenging and begging her to take this conversation further instead of just running away. Charlie looks around the party to catch her breath. It's not that she doesn't like Riley. On the contrary, he is actually one of the best friends she's ever had. He doesn't treat her differently like Kyle would, not to imply that she compares the two nowadays. He just never made her feel like her past mattered. He made her feel like she could be anyone and do anything and he wouldn't judge her.

_Unlike Kyle… _She thinks, remembering his obvious contempt for her entirely new lifestyle. They're on thin ice to say the least. They haven't spoken more than twice this month, and those conversations are usually clouded by distaste, resentment and awkwardness. So much so that all they would talk about is her motorcycle or their mutual friends.

"I've got to say, for someone who _hates _Upper East Side queens and their soirees, you have thrown a hell of a good party!" he exasperates, looking around at the elegantly but casually decorated rooftop.

"It was mostly Blair and Chuck, I just basically told them where to put the chairs." Riley chuckles.

"Still."

"Ugh, look at who came," says Charlie, watching as Lorraine Humphrey and her group of manipulative, anorexic, label-obsessed minions enter the party. She can't help but widen her eyes at just how… _Glamorous _they all looked.

At the center stood Lorraine, her raven hair braided into a sideward's Dutch braid. She wore a flower-patterned Monokini that shows off her tiny waist and great cleavage and many gold necklaces. Beside her stands Brooke, looking aloof and apathetic. Unlike Lorraine, she's dressed in a simple but sexy red bikini that shows off her large breasts. Then there's Reese Archibald, Riley and Rhyze's younger sister, who is clad in a rose pink V-neck one piece.

What Charlie notices soon after is that Elizabeth Humphrey-Wales isn't clad in a form fitting swimsuit that made the wearer look like she stepped out of Sports Illustrated. She wore a pair of boy shorts and a loose simple white T-shirt that did nothing for her body. Before Charlie could contemplate on why the reasonably attractive girl would wear something ill-fitting, they walked towards her.

"We heard you were having a party," Lorraine deadpans, her voice not containing and form of malice or aggravation. The Waldorf-Bass spawn remains silent.

"Yeah, everyone did," replies Riley indifferently, shrugging in the process. His tone implies his true feelings as he might as well have said, "You're not that special just because you heard she was having a party."

"It's… Quaint," Charlie cocks an eyebrow.

"Nice swimsuit," Charlie says simply, her poker face now on. Charlie knows that while the compliment may have been worded to praise, the way she said it made Lorraine's blood boil. Charlie has learned now that not raising her voice or getting too worked up about something was the easiest way to deal with the cold-hearted ice queen. It made her feel like she couldn't affect the brunette in anyway, like her attacks were merely small, insignificant pinches. And Charlie could tell that this fact made her even more annoyed.

"Thanks," returns Lorraine, a cold and small smile building up in her face. Charlie can't help but do a double take. Something felt iffy, like she and her minions are in on something that would harm her. She ignores it, what can they do?

Lorraine brushes past Charlie, purposely bumping into Riley's hard bicep. Her minions trail after her, staring daggers into Charlie's emerald eyes.

"What was that?" Charlie asks Riley.

"What was what?"

"That! What did you do to Lorraine to make her hate you so much?"

"That's a question people have been asking themselves since Lorraine learned to scoff." Charlie raises her eyebrow. What was he hiding?

"Fine," Riley says defeated.

"We used to date before I broke up with her." Riley expected Charlie's face to drop in jealousy. He expected her to go from green-eyed beauty to green-eyed monster before him. He expected rage to appear on her face. Instead, she just nodded apathetically. Once she did this, Riley felt hurt. Her not getting mad meant she didn't feel that way about him.

"I'll talk to you later," says Riley, walking away from Charlie and over to Anton.

XoXo

_1 Hour Later…_

"B, _what _are we doing?" snaps Serena Van Der Woodsen-Archibald as she and her longtime best friend and practically sister Blair Waldorf step out of the elevator and onto the entrance hall that would lead up to the rooftop where Charlie's party could be found. Serena continues to gape at Blair, trying to convince her that she is absolutely insane. After all, only Blair Waldorf could think of not only crashing her daughter's party but _also _dressing up in over-the-top disguises.

"Shush," snaps Blair, pulling Serena behind a large fern when two rowdy Saint Judes boys ran down the hallway, chasing after each other.

"Blair, has anyone ever mentioned to you that you take things too far?" The tall blond asks, taking Blair's arm.

"Why would anyone mention that?" she asks, distracted

"I don't know, Blair!" says Serena mockingly. "Maybe because I am dressed in a cater waiter suit with a fake mustache, brown contact lenses, shades and a top hat!" Blair rolls her eyes, turning to Serena.

"Serena, may I remind you that _my _schemes are what got you out of your shenanigans for almost all of our young adult and teen years?"

"Really, like when?"

"Let's see, there's the Georgina coming back to the Upper East Side after a year of exile to ruin your reputation." Blair points out.

"Well, that's one time…" considers Serena.

"What about when you dated that foreigner-"

"Gabriel was from South Carolina," the blond bombshell interrupts. The famous talk show host barely acknowledges it.

"And he conned your mom, Rufus Humphrey, the Upper East Side and you?" Blair points out

"Or when your biological father came to try and edge the Humphrey's out of your family's life? Who rallied the Non-Judging Breakfast Club plus Little J and Humphrey to stop his diabolical plan?" continues the Waldorf matriarch dramatically

"Technically, that was Chuck and Jenny. If I recall, you were supposed to be on a date with that Cameron guy." The brunette rolls her eyes, swatting Serena's excuses away

"The point is that my schemes are always for the better."

"No, your schemes are _always _for you."

"What's your point?"

"_My _point is that you don't have to go through _all _this trouble _just _so you can see her party. You'll see her tonight and she'll tell you _all _about it." Blair rolls her eyes at her best friend's naïvete.

"You forget that she's a teenage girl."

"What does _that _have to do with anything?"

"Serena, you were a rebellious and flirty party girl. Are you telling me that whenever Lily asked you how the party was, you told her the truth?" The supermodel shrugs.

"No," Serena admits. "Blair, this is ridiculous!" The statuesque beauty was about to go on a long rant about Blair's manipulative and scheming ways until the elevator opensed to reveal two men clad in dark blue trench coats, big boots and black barets.

"Basshole!" hHisses Blair in a raspy whisper, catching the attention of the two figures.

"I was wrong, B. You aren't the only crazy one around here." Chuck approaches the two childhood best friends with his companion following him.

"Nate," Serena recognizes.

"Serena," Nate replies in shock, inching closer to inspect the blond closely.

"What are you doing here?" Blair asks Chuck, aggravated.

"Nathaniel and I wanted to see Charlie's party," answers Chuck easily.

Before Blair and Chuck can erupt in another one of their banters, they hear two pairs of feet walking down the entrance lobby. Serena and Blair pull Nate and Chuck behind the bush respectively, bending over the branches to catch a glimpse.

"Just let me explain!" Charlotte Waldorf-Bass' voice rings down the empty hallway.

"She looks gorgeous," muses Serena.

"That wasn't the swimsuit I picked out for her," Chuck says through gritted teeth.

"I know, it's the one I picked," the ex-Queen Bee replies.

"You gave her _that?_"

"What's so wrong with it?" Blair inquires accusingly.

"S-she…" Chuck struggles to find the words to say. He is nearly _always _turned on by skimpy bikinis, but not on his daughter.

"Blair, I know you might not understand this, but fathers tend to find it hard to accept their daughter's development from girls to women," the congressman explains for his best friend. Serena nods, agreeing.

"Oh, come off it! It's not like Serena and I didn't do the same thing."

Serena rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed by her friend's antics. "Blair, it's different when it's your child. You just don't understand yet because-" Serena cuts herself off, pressing her lips together. The brunette raises a curious eyebrow.

"Why don't I understand?" asks Blair, arms crossed.

"Leave it, B," Serena says quietly. Blair was about to insist that she say something when Nate silences both of them.

"Look, Kyle I-I just didn't think you would want to come!" explains Charlie quickly, pulling her long-time best friend towards her. He sneers, pulling his arm away from the brunette.

"What's going on?" ask Blair and Chuck in unison.

"That's not the point!" snaps Kyle.

"W-what is so wrong with me wanting to have a party for the kids at my school?" asks Charlie, her voice hardening. Somehow, she no longer feels a stab of guilt for not inviting Kyle or his friends. This is Anton's party after all, she tells herself repeatedly. Kyle scoffs derisively.

"Ah, there it is again! The Charlotte HALL mantra!" he says mockingly "_What's so wrong with this, what's so wrong with that?_" says Kyle, impersonating her.

"Real mature," Charlie points out sarcastically.

"You know what I've noticed lately? Hmm? I've noticed that you have become _completely _oblivious to _any _bad thing you have done!" Charlie snorts.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Me? Ridiculous? Charlie, every one of your _real friends _knows that you have become a stupid brat just like those pussies in there!" Kyle says to her, seething with anger.

"I AM NOTHING LIKE THEM!" The Empire Hotel heiress replies.

"Yes you are! Why else would you have planned this _entire _party?"

"Because my friend's dad wouldn't let him have it at their house!" explains the brunette.

"Oh really, and why'd you offer up your place, hmm?" the Vietnamese man asks.

"Because I wanted to do something nice!" Charlie retorts.

"No, you just want to be accepted," he chides.

"What is so wrong with that, Kyle? What is so wrong with me wanting to get along with the people I go to school with? What's so wrong with wanting to not have yogurt splashed on my shirt o-or my locker door being pried off?" Kyle shakes his head.

"And there's the mantra again."

"I only say it _again and again _because you fail to see that there is _nothing wrong _with what I want!"

"Oh no, there is something wrong with it, Charlie. You see, this is just the beginning. In the past month, you've come from hating these bitches to throwing a party for them! Trust me, when Christmas comes you'll be on the top of the Met forcing _normal people _to step down for you," Kyle says, his anger not wavering for a second.

"That is not going to happen."

"Why didn't you invite me and Felix and Lily? Are you ashamed of us now?" Charlie shakes her head quickly.

"NO! You know for a fact that I'm not ashamed of you guys!" insists Charlie.

"Really? Then what is it?"

"I WAS ASHAMED OF MYSELF!" Charlie cries out loud, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. She bites her lip, hoping that the pain will take away the sadness.

"I w-was ashamed to a-admit that…. That I wasn't h-having fun at my own party, okay? I k-knew right from the s-second I planned it that I wouldn't have fun! A-and I didn't want you guys t-to see me looking like a friendless loser b-because I didn't want you guys to pity me." There, Charlie had said it. She'd finally admitted it to herself and to Kyle. Now, they could go back to being best friends who hung out at the top of the Empire State Building or shop lifted at Walmart. They could go back to normal. They could go back to being friends. All Kyle needed to do now is bring her into his arms and forgive her like he always did.

"I don't pity you," Kyle seethes angrily, wrecking her wishes of reconciliation. "I know you, Charlie. I know for a fact that you thought this party was going to be the _best party _of your life. Therefore, you didn't want it to be ruined by you having to juggle Abercombie and Fitch and us guys. You didn't want to choose, well don't worry, I'll choose for you." Before Charlie can stop him, he walks to the vacant elevator and closes it on her.

"Oh my god," whimpers Blair, looking at Chuck. Her face is stricken with unnerving concern for their daughter. He looks down, pitying his daughter's sadness. Both he and Blair were deranged enough to believe for the past month that Charlie felt right at home at Constance Billard. She would come home and go on and on about how she would go out to lunch with Riley Archibald and his band of brothers. The two ex-lovers always thought that by her being with them, she was having fun. Little did they know that it just meant she was that desperate to have anyone.

"We should have known," Chuck murmurs, sighing.

"Hey Bass," Chuck looks up to see a familiar red head who he knew to be the daughter of his rival Carter Baizen approach his and Blair's daughter. Charlie looks up, brushing her tears away from her eyes.

"What do you want, Brooke?" Charlie asks, trying to recover from the words Kyle threw at her.

"I just wanted to let you know that you're _always _welcome to join my little revolt," she says simply. Charlie snorts.

"You talk as if this is some kind of war."

"Maybe it is," answers Brooke "By the way, in case you didn't already know, Lorraine was the one who called Kyle." Charlie turns to Brooke, eyes wide with shock.

"LORRAINE?" yells Charlie "H-how did she even know who he was?" Brooke chuckles.

"She overheard Riley Archibald talking to his friends about it at Butter right before they came to your party." The brunette raises an eyebrow. She didn't know what was weirder; That Riley was discussing Kyle to his friends or that Lorraine would go to such an extreme extent just to ruin her party. _Someone's pathetic… _The Waldorf-Bass spawn thinks.

"What a bitch!" Charlie trots back into the party, whizzing past her guests quickly. Her gaze lands on Lorraine, who's standing right beside the pool now clad in her party dress. She's trying to keep Riley's fleeting attention, and failing. Charlie smirks, walking towards Lorraine.

"Hey Lorraine," greets Charlie, her voice sickeningly sweet.

"Bass, I saw your little friend. He's quite… Interesting," replies the wicked bitch of the Upper East Side.

"He is, isn't he?" Right when Lorraine is about to respond, Charlie uses her full force to push Lorraine's Pilates-toned body into the pool. Everyone roars with laughter, humored by humiliation the oh-so mighty Queen Bee is experiencing.

Lorraine floats up, angered by Charlie's actions

"This is war, Bass!" she hisses. The brunette giggles, finding her absolutely idiotic. _War? These people take things WAY too far! _She thinks, smirking. She leans near the edge of the pool where the frantic raven-haired girl swims.

"You're pathetic," is all Charlie says before she walks away from Lorraine's heated glare.

**Author's Note: I know this chapter is longer than usual but I had a lot of things that I needed to bring up and this chapter seemed like the best way to do it. PLEASE REVIEW! Pretty please? 3 reviews till I start working on the next chapter!**

**Special thanks to my new beta CoverGirlInLove :D **


	14. The Past Meets The Present

"Hey gorgeous," hollers the annoyingly handsome Riley Archibald from across the street, his tight-knit band of brothers behind him. Charlotte "Charlie" Waldorf-Bass looks up from her iPhone and looks across the street. Instead of focusing her attention standing right beside him, eyes guarded and face emotionless.

Usually, most girls would look at Riley first and then, once they are done admiring his angelic good looks, turn to check out his other companions. But for some reason, Charlie seems to just look past Riley. Sure, he is her only real companion on the Upper East Side, but for some reason she just always looks for the other Archibald twin.

Their entire group jaywalk towards Charlie, provoking an Indian taxi driver to poke his head out of the window and yell at the five prep school boys. They simply snicker, shrugging the aggravated rants of the taxi driver away.

Unknown to Charlie, her Emerald orbs are still on Rhyze. Rhyze, who catches Charlie gaping at him, smirks and winks towards her direction. Luckily, none of the other guys notice, instead clamoring together and laughing at the taxi driver. The younger Archibald twin then turns back to Charlie, smiling.

"I thought you guys were taking a cab to Carve on 47th and 7th for lunch," says Charlie. Penn snorts.

"We _were, _until Riley made us turn the cab around and come back to school," Penn says pointedly, eyeing Riley.

"Why? You know how Derrek gets when he doesn't eat," the brunette points out, looking over at Derrek Humphrey's pale, annoyed face. He growls, pushing past their group and into the courtyard, undoubtedly heading off to the dining hall to purchase food.

"W-well… I-I wanted to come ask you something," continues Riley.

"Couldn't you have just texted?" asks Charlie.

"I thought it was something I had to do in person," says the younger Archibald twin.

"Okay then, what is it?" presses the Waldorf-Bass.

"I wanted to ask if you, maybe, wanted to go out on a… Date… With me tomorrow night?" Charlie's smile drops, her eyes widening in genuine surprise.

"A d-date?" inquires Charlie, as if he is joking.

"Yes, a date," confirms Riley, grinning ear-to-ear.

"Well that sounds… Um" she trails off, unsure of how to let him down easy. It's not that she doesn't find Riley attractive, to be quite honest she finds him insanely gorgeous. And sure, he's fun to be around and he always treats her right but he just isn't what she wants. He doesn't make her feel like her insides are on fire. He doesn't render her breathless. He doesn't make her feel safe. He doesn't make her feel… Anything.

She looks behind her, only to be caught off guard by the numerous girls and boys hollering at her to accept Riley's offer. She turns back to Riley and then glances over at Rhyze, whose face doesn't betray any emotion. The brunette tries to bite back an annoyed growl.

_What's this now?_ _Rhyze Archibald isn't jumping in to crush Riley's spirits? _Charlie thinks sarcastically. For some reason, the fact that Rhyze doesn't step in with some convincing yet over-the-top excuse for Riley to take back his offer just irks her. What happened to him wanting to hurt his brother?

_Or rather, what happened to him being interested in you? _Retorts another voice in Charlie's head, one that is actually honest about her feelings. Charlie sighs, so maybe she is slightly upset that Rhyze hasn't tried anything with her. She doesn't like him, oh no, jerk isn't her type she just expected it.

The ex-foster child looks over at Riley, who's still watching her expectantly. She gulps, she can just feel the pressure from everyone around them. From Penn and Anton to the rest of the student population.

"I don't think that's such a good …" begins Charlie, only to be caught off guard with Riley's usually bright face darkening. Behind him, Anton and Penn shake their heads in disapproval.

_This can't happen. I can't lose the only friends I have! It's bad enough that everyone here hates me! _She thinks in panic.

"Actually… Sure, what the hell!" answers Charlie, watching as Riley's face lights up brighter than the huge Christmas tree at the Rockefeller Centre.

"G-great!"

XoXo

Charles "Chuck" Bass stands in front of the closed doors of his private elevator, waiting for the doors to slide open and let him gain entrance into the elevator. He lets out an aggravated growl, unable to hold back his impatience. You'd think that a private elevator that only services him and his guests would be more available.

He can hear the elevator approaching and sighs in relief. He is and will never be a patient man. He blames it on his father, the late Bart Bass, who never had him wait for anything. After all, Bass's don't wait, others wait for them. As the elevator doors slide open, he's caught off guard by Blair Waldorf, mother to his illegitimate daughter and the former love of his life, standing inside.

The Bass patriarch purses his lips, taking in the very presence that is Blair Waldorf. Something about her, Chuck always notices, is always quite intimidating to others. Maybe it's her snobbish, elitist behaviour or her cold response towards strangers. Either way, she manages to come off as cold and heartless. But to Chuck, oh she's anything but. Whenever Blair's around every single part of what is Chuck Bass, from his frozen heart to his never satisfied crotch, always heats up.

Chuck likes to think of it as just a regular, natural response to a beautiful and sexy woman but even he knows that it's more than that. Nowadays, whenever Blair Waldorf is around, his heart starts racing. He loses all composure and charm that comes with being Chuck Bass and he just turn into some pathetic virgin at a European brothel.

_The thought of me acting like an inexperienced virgin is incredibly ironic… _He thinks to himself, only to be shaken out of his inner thoughts by Blair shoving past him and into his suite, crossing her arms as she inspects the suite

"Waldorf, I'd appreciate it if you don't sniff through my house," Chuck says slyly, walking up behind her.

"Is Charlie here?" she asks, not even bothering to reply to Chuck's sly comment.

"No, she's out with Brooke Baizen," reveals the Bass patriarch, making the brunette's eyebrows rise in genuine surprise.

"Brooke Baizen?" inquires the famous talk show host. _Brooke and Charlie? Friends? _Blair thinks in disbelief. Sure, Brooke Baizen is no Lorraine Humphrey or Elizabeth Wales. She's hardly prim and proper, in fact, she's sort of rude. If Blair is to really think about it she's sort of the odd one out. She's not nearly as pleasant as Elizabeth or sophisticated as Lorraine. She's much more gung ho and rock and roll.

_Still, it's an odd match… _She considers.

"I know, I was just as surprised," answers Chuck.

"So they're friends now?"

"Not exactly. Apparently, Lorraine Humphrey was the one who called Kyle to Charlie's part last week," he informs his once girlfriend, gesturing over to his black leather couch.

"This has been sanitized, right?" Chuck rolls his eyes, plopping down on the couch and crossing his legs. He pats the seat beside him, pursing his lips together seductively.

"Want to help me de-sanitize it?" he asks in a bare whisper, his eyes gaping into hers. She scoffs derisively, walking to the couch across from him.

"I'd prefer not to," she answers simply.

"Suit yourself, Waldorf," he replies.

"So Lorraine was the one who ruined Charlie's party?" Chuck nods. Leave it to Blair Waldorf to never let anything slide.

"Well, what does that have to do with Brooke?" asks Blair.

"Brooke Baizen has been 'scheming to take over Lorraine's role as alpha dog' and needed a proper ally to help her in her quest." Blair smiles. Oh, how she remembers the days of scheming, plotting and manipulation. She fondly looks back on her glory days, humiliating hopeful freshman (Jenny Humphrey) or rising from the ashes of her pregnancy scare and becoming a better, stronger and more feared than ever before.

"Remember when that was me?" the brunette can't help but point out, her eyes illuminating with nostalgia. Chuck's cocky smirk turns into a crooked smile as he thinks back to their high school days. Back to when Blair was the social tyrant known as the Queen Bee. Back to when Serena shifted from 'old Serena' to 'new Serena' so many times that no one even bothered to keep track anymore. Back to when Nate was the brooding golden boy. Back to when Chuck was a womanizing cad-

_Because you aren't one anymore? _His counters self consciously.

"With Serena or with Jenny?"

Blair shrugs nonchalantly

"Is there any difference? I won both wars didn't I?" Blair retorts wittily, relaxing her back on the leather couch. She peels off the lime green coat that covers her black silk long-sleeve shirt and places it right beside her.

"That you did, Waldorf," replies Chuck.

"Well," Blair says, pulling away from Chuck's burning gaze and looking down on her Jimmy Choo pumps. "Maybe I should just go-" Says Blair timidly, only to be interrupted by Chuck.

"Do you want a drink?" he cuts her off. Blair raises her eyebrows, genuinely surprised at the offer. It's common knowledge to everyone that there are more than enough un-discussed emotions between the two. That and they hate each other.

_If I'm smart I'll just leave. I'll just say I'm tired, leave and go home like a proper Upper East Side woman would. Like any level-headed woman who fell in love with Chuck Bass only for him to break her heart would. It's the smart thing to do. The right thing. _

"Sure," responds Blair half-heartedly, walking over to Chuck's bar.

XoXo

Three bottles of red wine later, Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf are sitting in front of Chuck's flat screen TV, watching as Holly Golightly (played by Blair's longtime favorite actress Audrey Hepburn) strum the chords of her guitar. Chuck looks over at Blair, who's loudly singing along with her high pitched voice. She stands up clumsily.

"… OH DREAM MAKER, YOU HEART BREAKER, WHEREVER YOU'RE GOING I'M GOING YOUR WAY!" Blair belts out at the top of her lungs out of drunken stupor, much to the already tipsy Chuck Bass' amusement.

"Waldorf, any louder and you'll break my ears," he slurs, grabbing her by the wrist and attempting to pull her back down. She stumbles, her body falling on top of the wealth Bass entrepreneur. Chuck grins stupidly, brushing away a stray lock of hair from Blair's porcelain-skin face.

"Chuck," Blair says quietly, her ruby red lipstick smeared from her thin lips. Chuck wipes away the excess lipstick before looking back at the doe-eyed beauty. She holds his gaze before she speaks

"Do you think we would have made it?" she asks, her voice low and slow. Ever since she and Chuck went on their separate ways 16 years ago, she always wondered if they would have made it. She always tried to figure out if they would have been together forever

"If I never asked to move in and if you never cheated…" she pauses "Would we have stayed together? If there was nothing else, no viable excuse for us not to be together, would we still be together?" she continues. She knows she's drunk and emotional and confused, but deep down she's honestly asking him.

Chuck sighs, he asks himself the same question every night before he goes to sleep. He looks up at Blair's expectant face and just shrugs nonchalantly. Instead of burdening him with more of her questions like she would have she just nods, not rolling off of his body just yet.

"Are you still good in bed?" the famous talk show asks Chuck, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Are you?" he replies. They stare into each other's eyes. Whether it's the alcohol, the nostalgia or the deep-rooted lust for each other's skill in bed, it's clear to both of them that they still aren't over each other. And if they are both to be completely honest, they might never be.

Blair looks down, avoiding Chuck's intense gaze. He smiles, even after sixteen years he can still read her better than anyone else. He raises his hand and gently rests it under her chin, lifting her gaze up to his own. The infamous talk show host gulps, her heart beat quickening dramatically.

She tries to pull away. She uses her will power, her pride and her dignity to convince herself to be sensible and get off Chuck Bass' body and leave his penthouse. And for awhile, Blair could have sworn she had mustered enough power to stand up. That is, until he pushes her chestnut brown tendrils to the back of her shoulder and rests his soft and thin lips on the crook of her neck

He kisses her shoulder gently before slowly trailing hot kisses up from the crook of her neck to her earlobe. Chuck nibbles on her ear. He can feel her succumbing to his desire just by the way her body went from tense to relaxed, is proof enough. But if that isn't enough, he feels her dainty hands run through his dark black hair, trying to regain control.

He smiles to himself, typical Blair Waldorf. The successful entrepreneur moves his lips from her right ear to her mouth, taking her breathe away with his aggressive approach. She gasps, giving Chuck the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth. For a minute or so, she doesn't respond to his tongue in her mouth. But slowly, after much prodding, she finally gives into him.

"Chuck," Blair moans, pulling away from his lips. She places both hands on his shoulders and forces him back down

"W-we shouldn't… We s-shouldn't do this," says the brunette breathlessly, thinking back to their daughter. Thinking back to her new responsibility of thinking about others, not just herself.

"Why not?" inquires Chuck, unable to hide his frustration. Here they are, passionately making out on the carpeted ground, only for her to shoot him down.

"Charlie," she reminds him. Blair waits for him to agree with her, to agree that they put a stop to their hormones. Instead, he fuses his eyebrows together.

"Why would Charlie have a problem with this?" the notorious womanizer asks, bewildered.

"Because," drawls Blair, "it would just complicate things. Imagine if you and I do sleep together. How do you think she'll feel?" demands Blair.

"Why would we talk to our daughter about our sex life?"

"T-that's n-not the point!" hisses Blair.

"Then what is the point?"

"The point is that if you and I sleep together, a new load of complication will arise! And that, surely, isn't what we want for Charlie right now," explains the Constance Billard alumni.

"Blair," Chuck says soothingly, sitting up.

"No one will ever have to know," he continues. "What w-we're doing here is s-scratching an itch. Were revisiting the past, that's all," says Chuck soothingly. Before Blair can protest, he leans in for another forceful kiss, washing her worries away.

XoXo

Charlie Waldorf-Bass hands the taxi driver $15 before jumping out of the yellow cab, with Brooke Baizen right behind her. They instantly run towards the entrance of the Waldorf apartment building in hopes of avoiding the rain. Once they enter the lobby, they both pull down the hoods that were covering their heads.

"So what did you think of the dress?" inquires Brooke conversationally, holding up her carton Bloomingdale's shopping bad and waving it around as they both walk to the Waldorf's private elevator in the very back of the hallway. The elevator guard, a tall and pleasant Caucasian man, acknowledges Charlie with a nod and opens the elevator for her. She smiles and him before entering the elevator with Brooke.

"It's really nice," answers the brunette, thinking back to the dark green Alexander McQueen dress Brooke purchased. "Isn't your dad going to be mad though? It was really expensive," Charlie points out worriedly. The red head just snorts, shaking her head.

"Not really, it was only $679," says Brooke simply, adjusting her grip on all of her eight shopping bags from Bloomingdale's, Bendel's and Barney's. The green-eyed beauty nods, pretending to understand completely. She looks down at her own shopping bag. It's a lot smaller than Brooke's. Inside it is a plaid scarf she picked out from the clearance area. It cost her about $50, a fortune considering she could have bought five shirts from Daffe's, a discount store.

"Did you have fun?" asks Brooke, looking over at Charlie. Charlie faces her, caught off guard by how pretty Brooke actually is. She's pale with sparkling dark eyes and red curls cascading beautifully down her face. Charlie tries to bite back her jealousy. Why couldn't she be that pretty? Why does she have to look like E.T. all the time?

"Yeah," answers Charlie. Truth be told, she thought that her and Brooke hanging out after school to talk about their plan to take Lorraine down would be awkward and intimidating. Maybe it's because she finds Brooke scary and cold. But in reality, she's actually quite nice. She'll never be Little Miss Sunshine, but she's certainly not an Ice Queen either.

_Plus, she's a lot of fun to be with, _Thinks Charlie internally. Its no wonder all the guys always invite her out to clubs and parties. She's loud without being annoying, funny without being cheesy and she knows how to have fun.

"You should have gotten more than that scarf," the red head rebel points out.

"I didn't really want to spend too much of Chuck and Blair's money," answers Charlie, stepping out of the elevator and into Blair's penthouse.

"Why not? Blair Waldorf can bring you more cache than Tyra Banks, and Chuck Bass has more billions than Trump." Charlie just shrugs, not wanting to discuss anything personal with Brooke. Even if Charlie is fond of her, it doesn't mean she's about to pour her heart out to a complete stranger. She isn't like that.

XoXo

*Charlie POV

I walk past the night doorman, turning to him and giving him a polite smile. He smiles back like he's been taught to. I reach to the back of my head and lift up the hood of my army green jacket, realizing that it is raining. I look back at the doorman, who's still watching me. I can tell he's wondering why I would be sneaking out of my biological mom's penthouse at 2:45AM. I shrug it off. It's none of his damn business.

After walking three blocks from the Waldorf apartment building, I feel myself begin to relax. Somehow, I find the darkness and the sound of the raindrops soothing. I look around at the big, privately owned, apartment buildings on the Upper East Side. Even from the outside I can already imagine large dining rooms with marble floors and Champagne colored walls.

I could almost laugh at the irony of it all. Two months ago I would have been nervous to even step foot on the Upper East Side, now I'm living here. In fact, two months ago I would have been living in a small apartment in the Bronx with eight other foster kids and two selfish, alcoholic foster parents. Now, I'm living on one of the wealthiest areas in the planet with parents who, despite their immaturity and slight irresponsibility, are actually quite loving. I guess that's life for you.

I think back to my date with Riley. I'm not sure why, but the idea of Riley and I going on a date is rather… Repulsive. It's not that I don't like him, I do. I just can't see him as someone I'd fall in love with. He's sweet and bright but he lacks depth and real emotion and complexity. A guy like Riley is only a few inches deep when you really think about it. A guy like him would read a story about a woman leaving her husband for another man and immediately assume that the woman is just a selfish whore. He'll never be the type to consider the fact that her husband could have been abusive or emotionally detached.

I understand why Brooke was surprised when I said that I wasn't all that into Riley Archibald. After all, how many guys can you find that are willing to bend over backwards (literally, once I ignored Riley because I was reading a book and he did a handstand) just to catch your eye? But he's not the one I want. He'll never be.

I look up, realizing that I have unknowingly walked ten blocks in the pouring rain. I look around, unable to see much in the rain and fog. I hear footsteps. I look directly in front of me for someone walking by. There is no one. I peek behind me, expecting someone. There is no one. The footsteps get louder and louder. I do an entire 360, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mystery person. I don't and I feel my entire body tense.

"Hey, what's a fine young lady like yourself doing out at this time?" I hear a mysterious slurred voice ask in the darkness. I take a step back, only for my back to collide with the ominous form. I hurriedly turn around and see the stranger. He's tall and muscular, I immediately notice. He laughs, seeing the fear in my eyes.

"Leave me alone," I manage to choke out, my voice hoarse and shaky. He laughs vindictively, shaking his head.

"You don't need to be scared," he replies simply, clearly amused. He caresses my wet cheek, sending chills down my spine.

"I'm not," I deny quickly, trying to walk back. He steps in front of me. I can feel his hot gaze on my face. I gulp, trying to find some sort of courage in me. I can't let myself fall victim to this drunken pervert. No, I've come a long way since then. I was eight back then. I was defenseless and easily manipulated. Back then, any man could have hurt me and abused me. Well, not anymore.

"Where are you going?" asks the frightening stranger, chuckling as I try to brush past him yet again.

"To my boyfriend's house," I lie through gritted teeth. I manage to send him a threatening glare, one similar to Blair's. He steps back a little before laughing. I can feel my entire body sweat and avoid the urge to just run. No, if I run he'll just run after me. I know the drill, I've been raped before. I know that men like him, sick men with no hint of humanity in them, take pleasure in the chase. If I stand my ground and appear to be strong, he might back down. The key word being 'might'.

"At this time at night?" he challenges, his eyebrows raised. He steps closer and his face comes into the street light. He's ugly, with dark, greasy black hair and large eyes that simply emit sadistic sociopath.

"Yes, that's his house right over there," I say pointing over to the apartment building right across the street.

(**WARNING: BEGINNING OF RAPE SCENE)**

"Now, if you'll excuse me," I say curtly, about to jay walk through the empty street when I feel his hand grab onto my wrist. He pulls me back in front of him before shoving me into a dark alley one building down. He shoves my back onto the brick wall and places both of his strong, forceful hands on my shoulders to hold me back.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" I yell in distress, using my legs to try and kick any part of him that could render him pain. No, this can't be happening to me! Not again! I struggled under his tight grasp, about to yell again when he muffles my voice with his sour lips. They aggressively tackle mine and I feel my entire body struggled under him. I try to use my hands to pull him away but he just takes them and holds them back.

"Baby, don't try and struggle," he says in between kisses. I look up from my pool of tears and see him grinning ear-to-ear. He slides my jacket off easily and then manages to tear my shirt off. He pulls one of my bra straps down and starts sucking on my hardened nipple.

"HELP! ANYONE! PLEASE, STOP IT!" I yell. I do the only thing I can now, ask for help. I use all the strength I have left to try and fight him off. He steps back when I kick him in the stomach, grabbing onto his stomach in pain. I gasp in fear as he looks back up at me, and I try to make a run for it. I scream for help but nothing comes.

I don't realize that he's regained his strength until his arms wrap around my waist, grabbing it so hard that I shriek in absolute pain. He shoves me back against the wall. This time, instead of laughing he shoots me a glare. He tears my bra off my chest and I shiver at my entire chest being exposed.

"Shut up, you slut!" he hisses, pressing his chest against mine and sliding his hands towards my pants. I shriek again. No, this has to be a nightmare. It has to be. I'll wake up from this nightmare and be back in my bed, my hair a tangled mess and Dorota knocking on the door. Yes, that's it. This is a dream. A sick, cruel dream that's meant to remind me of my past. I convince myself that this entire thing is one big nightmare. That is, until I feel his hand on my cunt. Then I realize it's not a nightmare.

"NO, stop it! Let go of me!" I beg, feeling his fingers roaming around my clit.

"Don't pretend you're not enjoying this, baby," he whispers. I look at him, absolutely horrified. How dare he assume I would ever enjoy this?

"Stop it! J-just stop!" I beg again, kicking and screaming. This has to end now. He got what he wanted. He's degraded me in the worst way possible. He's made his point, I'm weak and he's strong. He's the predator and I'm the prey. He knows he can hurt me now, I can feel in from the way his mouth transforms into a smirk. Isn't that all he wants? To know he can break me? He's won, I've lost. Isn't that satisfying enough? To have taken all the progress I've made for the eight years and wound me all over again.

I feel him unbuckle his pants and I just shut my eyes now. This is it. There's no more fighting, no more hope. My entire body shakes in absolute horror. This is the end for me. This is what is going to become of my life. I'll be the girl who's been ridden by men for their pleasure. I'll be the girl who wasn't strong enough, wasn't smart enough to fight back. I'll be the girl that everyone else will pity but will secretly blame for her misfortunes.

(END OF RAPE SCENE)

Then, out of nowhere, his body drops on the floor. My eyes open and before I know it someone else is here. I rub my eyes, unable to recognize the person who just saved me. He gets on top of my rapist and punches him again and again until his entire face, now stricken with blood, turns unconscious. I feel my heart racing. I can still see his face, all dark and sinister. I shake my head.

The stranger turns to me and I immediately recognize who it is. It's Rhyze… Rhyze Archibald just saved me. He comes over to me and gently wraps me in his arms. He doesn't tell me I'm safe now. He doesn't tell me it will be okay. He knows he doesn't have to because, right now, as my bare body is pressed against his warm chest, I know I am. I'm safe now. I'm okay for now. He holds me in his arms, rocking my shaking body.

I realize, after ten minutes of silence, that my entire body is completely exposed to him. Instead of feeling self-conscious or humiliated, I feel nothing but grief over what had happened. He manages to soothe me without touching my body too much. Rhyze knows that's not what I need from him.

"I-I w-was so scared," I whimper, only for a fresh batch of tears to stream down from my eyes. He nods slowly, not saying a word. My body slowly begins to calm itself down. I look up at Rhyze's sympathetic face, backing away from him slightly. He peels off his wet trench coat and hands it to me, looking down at his feet. I take it, despite my hand shaking, and pull it over myself. The dryness of the insides of the coat welcomes me and I wrap it closer to my body.

Rhyze looks back up at me. He smiles. Not his usual cocky smirk, but a real smile. I can tell he's trying to be strong for me.

"Where does it hurt?" the blonde drenched in the rain asks. I don't really know, actually. I haven't even spared a glance at my body. I take a peak under Rhyze's coat only to realize that my waist was covered in dark purple bruises in the form of his hands. I also notice that my left breast is beginning to darken. There it is, physical evidence of the fact that I am forever damned to be nothing more than psychotic men's victim. Suddenly, I feel my heart quicken it's pace and then… Darkness

XoXo

___**Author's Note: Hey, sorry it took so long. School just started and I went of vacation and this chapter was pretty difficult to write. PLEASE REVIEW! Oh, and what did you guys think of the rape scene? It was my first one so please give me some feedback!**_


	15. Being Strong

"Charlie!" A hysterical Blair Waldorf yells from the doorway, pushing past the tall police officer blocking the doorway. Tears continue to stream down her flushed cheeks as she tries to grab a hold of her emotions long enough to threaten the policeman to let her pass through.

"T-that's my daughter," Blair states, her voice practically cracking in immense panic. She looks up at the man, his dark and unattached gaze softening at the sight of such a beautiful woman in such a frantic state. He nods, moving away from the door. Immediately, Blair's entire body reacts as she rushes into the stations. The famous talk show host takes a good look around the unusually quiet police station before running up to the front desk.

"I'm Blair Waldorf, I-I'm Charlie Waldorf's mother," says the brunette, biting her lip. The Caucasian lady nods grimly, not at all affected by the famous talk show host's frantic state. The Constance Billard alumnus shakes her head. You know the world is going to hell when people are accustomed to mother's running into police offices to find their daughters.

"Follow me," says the woman, standing up from her seat and leading Blair to the back of the office. She soon sees Charlie and Blair can feel a dagger entering her very chest. The sight itself is simply too much to bear. There she is, Blair's very own flesh and blood, sitting in front of a desk. Her face shows no emotion, almost as if there's nothing to worry about in the first place. But then Blair sees the way she's hanging onto a worried Rhyze Archibald's arm and she begs to differ.

Blair stops, unable to bring herself to approach Charlie. The guilt comes down on her like a ton of bricks. All she can think about is the theory of causality, and how she could have prevented all of this from happening. If only she had been brave enough to keep Charlie all those years ago. If she did, she wouldn't have had to grow up in foster care. If Charlie had not grown up in foster care, she would not have developed insomnia. If Charlie had not developed insomnia, she would have no need to wander around the streets of New York City on her own. And if Charlie never wandered around the streets of New York, she would never have been hurt like this in the first place.

"M-mom," The Waldorf's train of thought stops when she hears Charlie call her silently. She quickly marches up to Charlie, whose gaze does not waver in the slightest.

"C-Charlie," says Blair soothingly, about to rub her daughter's back when she flinches. She grabs onto Rhyze Archibald even tighter (if that is even humanly possible) and shuts her eyes. The elder brunette gulps, now even more concerned than ever. She looks up at Rhyze, who meets her gaze and shakes his head. Blair nods, understanding.

It doesn't matter if I'm her mother, she'll never let me touch her. Not after everything that has happened… Thinks Blair, taking a seat beside Charlie and Rhyze.

"Miss Waldorf?" Blair looks up at a raven-haired woman in her mid-thirties.

"Yes, that's me," answers Blair, attempting to make her voice sound firm and stable despite the tears that are running down her eyes.

"As we have informed you and Mister Bass, Miss Charlotte Catherine Bass has been raped by an unnamed male on the corner 44th and 8th at approximately three o'clock this morning. The man charged of the rape is currently being treated in our facilities –" Blair's eyes widen in immense indignation, gasping in absolute horror.

"You're treating that abusive scumbag? After what he did to my daughter?" says Blair, her voice as sharp as fingernails being dragged down a chalkboard.

"Yes, he has multiple wounds –"

"AND WHAT ABOUT MY DAUGHTER? DO YOU EXPECT ME TO JUST SIT HERE AND NOT TRY TO KILL THE PIG WITH MY BARE HANDS? WHAT HE DID TO C-CHARLIE IS ABSOLUTELY OUTRAGEOUS! H-HE TOUCHED HER AND R-RAPED HER AND –!" The famous talk show host's rant is interrupted by her daughter's own, distant voice.

"He didn't rape me," she states bluntly, her position and grip on the elder Archibald twin's arm not moving in the slightest. All three glance over at Charlie, eyes wide at curiosity.

"He t-took my body… My integrity… My pride a-and degraded me in the worst possible way," says the now hysterical brunette, her doe eyes welling up in tears.

"W-what he did to me… It c-can't be defined, can't be explained," whimpers Charlie, giving into the sorrow that the heartbreaking experience is inflicting on her. Suddenly she lets out a loud sob followed by hot tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. She hides her face on the crook of Rhyze's neck, taking in the heat of his body. Gently, he wraps his muscular arms around her waist and pulls her closer to him.

He looks over at Blair, who's watching the entire scene intently. He beckons her over to take his place when Charlie shakes her head, refusing to let go. The Waldorf matriarch gulps, trying to hide her jealousy. She would have known if Charlie and Rhyze were friends and so it hurts her even more to know that Charlie would rather hang onto him for support than her very own mother.

It serves me right, really… She thinks

XoXo

"How is she?" Chuck Bass asks as Blair sits down beside him on the staircase outside the doors of the police station. The Bass Head tries to hide his solemn expression by turning his head away from the brunette, but fails. He can see her doe eyes fixated on his face, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"I'm a horrible person," admits Chuck quietly, pressing his lips together in silent agony. Blair raises her eyebrows, his statement coming as a shock to her.

"What makes you say that?" she asks, unable to truly bring herself to disagree with him. It's not that she doesn't see how good a person he can be. She does. She sees his potential to be a great man, a great person. She sees it in the way he speaks to Charlie, in the way he's so concerned about Nate and in the way he loved her all those years ago. Oh yes, she knows he can be good.

But unfortunately, any goodness he has is overshadowed with his flaws, with his complexes. Not that Blair could really judge him. After all, she's just as big a basket case as he is.

"Remember all those years ago, back when Serena first came back from boarding school?" says Chuck.

"Yeah," answers Blair.

"At the Kiss On the Lips party… I tried to force myself on Jenny Humphrey," utters Chuck, his teeth grinding as he covers his face with his hands.

"I remember," answers Blair.

"And Serena," continues Chuck.

"I know," says Blair, cringing at the thought of her best friend almost being taken advantage of.

"Is this karma? Back then, I barely thought about how it felt for them… I thought they w-were all being prude. Now I get it and I hate myself. I hate myself!" says Chuck in complete disgust, shaking his head frantically as he tries to hold himself back from punching his own gut.

"Chuck, stop it!" says Blair.

"How can I? Blair, I am DESTINED FOR HELL. I am just as _disgusting and perverted_ as the scumbags who have hurt Charlie in the past! I wouldn't be surprised if she hates me now!"

"Chuck, what you did was wrong, that you and I both know. But you've made amends with both girls –"

"So what? That's it? So are you telling me that if that Rob character apologizes to Charlie, you expect her to forgive him? You expect him to go along living a normal life?" retorts Chuck.

"Are you telling me that if that guy stood right in front of you, you wouldn't try to kill him _with your bare hands_?" Chuck stares into her eyes, challenging her to try to lie her way out of this one.

"No… I would kill him," Blair admits. Chuck snorts silently, turning away.

"Exactly," answers the Bass patriarch.

"How did you ever sleep with me?" he inquires in a bare whisper. "How could _anyone_ have sex with me knowing of what I am capable of doing?"

Blair gulps. She never really thought of it that way. Was she delirious all those years ago?

_Or more like last night_ Taunts an oh-so annoying voice inside her head. How did Blair ever trust him with her virginity in the first place? She knew all about Jenny and Serena and did nothing, almost as if rape was an everyday offence. She bites her lip. Maybe Chuck is right. Maybe, at the end of the day, he is just as pathetic and ruthless as the dirty man who took advantage of Charlie.

_I'm such a hypocrite then, aren't I?_ She asks herself. After all, she spent thirty minutes berating the police officers who, by law and morality, are helping the cruel monster. But she never once reprimanded the square-jawed man sitting right beside her for the same actions.

XoXo

When Riley Archibald walks into the Waldorf penthouse, dressed in a casual yet sophisticated attire, he does not expect to see his date's body sprawled across the couch. He glances around the empty penthouse, caught off guard by the lack of light. Only one light could be seen from where he stood, and that is a small, Victorian lamp right beside the shiny black piano.

As the blond strides towards the unconscious body, he notes that Charlie is clad in a pair of forest green boy shorts and an XL 'I Love New York', instead of an attire more befitting their date. The chestnut brown haired girl's face plants down the pillow, before choking on the hint of drool coming down the corner of her mouth. She looks down, trying to regain composure when she sees a pair of black dress shoes on the floor.

Immediately, those sparkling Emerald orbs widen in surprise. She clumsily reaches for the light pink blanket that fell on the floor a few hours ago. She covers her long alluring legs with it, instantly breaking the youngest Archibald twin out of the trance her sleek legs inflicted on him.

"Rhyze," Charlie automatically blurts out, instantly getting on her feet and wrapping her dainty arms around Riley's neck. She shuts her eyes for a bit before opening them, only for them to widen yet again when she sees the old fashioned clock on the coffee table. Realizing the time and date, she instantly pulls away, stumbling on her blue silk slippers and falling back down on the couch.

"Surprised?" inquires Riley hesitantly, biting his lip. Is it possible that she might have forgotten all about their date? If he, one of the most absent-minded people on the face of the planet, could remember, how could she not? He spent the entire evening last night contemplating on what to do for their date, even keeping up his older twin brother, Rhyze Archibald, until 2:30AM. He could have made him stay longer if Rhyze had not insisted going for a walk in the pouring rain.

_I guess I must be pretty annoying if I could make him walk alone in the pouring rain. _Notes Riley. What surprised him though was when he woke up the next day, he saw his brother walking in the townhouse with the police. The second they entered, both he and his younger sister Reese had already hidden behind the large columns on the second floor that overlooked the foyer.

Unfortunately, nothing more was revealed. Serena and Nate simply wrapped their arms around their son, whispering words to one another. Riley attempted to find out why his overly polite and level-headed brother would be coming home with the police at 7AM in the morning, but he never found out.

Charlie nods, looking around the entire living room in search for her iPhone. She unlocks her phone, only to find that she has eighteen unanswered voicemails, followed by twenty E-mails, four Facebook messages and 27 texts. She notes that one is from Riley informing her that he is coming over, five are from Blair and eight are from Chuck, and everything else is all from Rhyze.

"I suppose you forgot?" Riley continues, his green-blue eyes already losing their enthusiasm and anxiety, instead being replaced with another one of his puppy dog expressions.

"I-I did," she admits quietly, taking the bottle of sleeping pills her Psychologist prescribed to her the morning after that… Incident and tucked it underneath one of the pillows.

"Oh," says Riley quietly

"I'm sorry," says Charlie, though her voice could only muster so much sympathy. After all, with everything has occurred in the past twenty four hours, the last thing that's on her mind is her date with Riley.

"It's alright" he attempts, his tone consoling and yet aggravated at the same time.

"We can reschedule" the long-haired brunette coddles. At this, Riley raises his gaze and, though not fully pleased with the heartbreaking outcome of his visit to the Waldorf's penthouse, nods in agreement. Though it does not exactly fit his idea of what a night out with Charlie would be like, it is much better than not having one in the future.

"Sure," he responds coolly.

"Why did you think I was Rhyze?" he asks suspiciously, eyes narrowed in slight accusation and jealousy. He is never one to be jealous of his elder brother, he believes them to be equals and the best of friends after all, but what if Charlie preferred to spend time with Rhyze?

"Huh?" says a bewildered Charlie, glancing back up at him.

"Why'd you think I was Rhyze? For awhile there, I thought you could tell us apart"

"I-I could I just… I wasn't really thinking about it" Charlie says hurriedly, unable to make a believable excuse.

_I just want to be left alone… _She thinks, trying to hide her irritation with a small smile. The last thing she wants to do is to have to pretend that she's even remotely interested in Riley's feelings or their date.

She doesn't really know what has come over her. Before everything that had occurred, she considered her date with Riley to be bearable, perhaps even enjoyable if she were lucky. Now, she can't even imagine sitting across from him and having him try to hold her hand as they talked about school or Charlie's childhood.

"Oh," says Riley, defeated. Charlie sees Riley's energy drop, but ignores it.

"I guess I'll go now" he says, hoping that she'll protest and offer to still have their date. It would be one of those quirky dates. She'll remain dressed in her house wear and he'll take off his loafers and wear old slippers lying around. If they got hungry, they'd walk all the way to the gelato shop near the Roceffeler Centre (wherein Charlie would get so exhausted he'd carry her back as she spoon fed him double chocolate gelato). Finally, they'd stumble back into her penthouse, watch trashy reality television and laugh about how pathetic it all is and fall asleep in each other's arms.

_How do I come up with all of this in a split second? _He asks himself, only to be snapped out of his daydream by Charlie mumbling goodbye. He sighs, defeated, but waits for her to stride towards him and at least kiss his cheek goodbye. Instead she nods curtly before running back up the marble staircase.

He follows her figure until she disappears, leaving him alone. The blond stands there for a bit, trying to figure out if maybe, just maybe, she isn't into him.

XoXo

"How was your date?" inquires Rhyze Archibald as he watches his younger twin brother's tall figure slide through the double doors of their townhouse. He purses his lips, trying to be as disingenuous as possible under the circumstances. The last thing he wants is for Riley to find out that, in thirty minutes, he'll be leaving the townhouse under the pretense of meeting up with an old friend from soccer camp to visit Charlie.

"Never happened," he hears Riley's uptight and cold response. Rhyze shakes his head. For a second there, he almost felt bad for Riley. He hears Riley sigh before he walks into the living room, lazily plopping himself down on the chaise, shutting his eyes.

"Why not?" asks Rhyze casually, as if he couldn't already guess why.

"She… She was busy, something came up" lies Riley through gritted teeth. Normally, he could be honest with his older brother, but having his date forget that they even _have _a date is quite humiliating.

"She forgot," Rhyze says simply, annoying Riley with his hurtful accuracy. Rhyze raises his gaze from his cell phone towards Riley, eyebrows raised expectantly. Riley sighs, running his shaky hands through gelled back, platinum blond hair.

"I guess you can say that" the younger twin responds quietly.

"Why are you dressed up?" Riley asks, noting his brother wearing his brown suede shoes and Fall coat indoors.

"Going out" Rhyze replies easily, barely flinching at the question. He's a master at this. All his life, he's learned to lie to Riley and deceive him. That's not changing just because he can't get a certain tall brunette out of his mind.

"Oh, where?" asks Riley, his blue-green eyes wide in speculation. Rhyze can already feel where this is going. _The last thing I need is to have Mr. Brightside tagging along. _He thinks, incredibly frustrated by his brother pestering him.

"Meeting a friend from soccer camp" comes the nonchalant response.

"Seriously, who? I knew all the guys there" Rhyze stops himself from rolling his eyes. Was Riley stupid enough to think that Rhyze would forget all the teenage boys at their soccer camp in Brazil 3 years ago fawning over Riley? _In a word, yes_.

"Orlando William Lazon" Rhyze says, making up the fake name off the top of his head. Riley's eyebrows scrunch up together, bewildered.

"Who?" Riley asks.

"You probably just forgot, he was in the camp a few miles from ours," says Rhyze.

"Oh, okay" Riley says.

"I should get going," says Rhyze, standing up.

"Rhyze," calls Riley, his elder twin brother already halfway out the door.

"What?" replies Rhyze irritably. Couldn't his brother not get the hint? Did he have to get any colder and distance to get his brother off his back.

"Thanks," says Riley quietly.

"For what?"

"For being there… I just, I _really _like Charlie and when she forgot that we had a date, I can't help but admit that it hurts. I just need someone to talk to and, when it comes to the this kind of stuff, you're usually the one" the younger Archibald twin says graciously, smiling at his brother.

"Whatever," Rhyze shrugs him off, slamming the door on the way out.

XoXo

"Get out," grumbles Charlie, grabbing the pillow carelessly left on the ground by herself and hurling it towards the French doors of her bedroom. The tall blond standing at the doorway easily dodges the pillow, instead raising his hand and catching it.

"How can I when you've been ignoring my calls and my e-mails and my texts?" inquires Rhyze simply, raising his eyebrows expectantly. Charlie doesn't move from her position, her body sprawled out underneath the sheets of her four-poster bed.

"You'll find a way," she snaps, taking the white and purple pillow beside her and covering her face.

"And close the windows on the way out" she says.

"I'm not your nanny, Bass" Rhyze reminds her, seeing past the angry demeanor. He can tell by the way she won't even look at him that she's still hurting. Not over the haunting event one night ago, but over being so vulnerable in Rhyze's eyes. He knows that there's a lot of pain she's trying to ignore, and his presence makes that extremely difficult.

_Still, Chuck and Blair aren't home, _considers Rhyze. He slowly walks towards the bed and grips the comforter covering Charlie's petite form. He slides it down all the way to her waist, causing her to try and hurl yet another pillow at his direction.

"Did I not just tell you to get _out_?" says Charlie, her voice much firmer this time around. She raises her head from the pillow, trying to muster up the courage to look at Rhyze straight in the eye. In reality, she can't help but be absolutely terrified that if she ever does, any semblance of normalcy that she's managed to scrape together will deteriorate into a million fragments.

_I know he means well, but he saw me at my worst and I can't help but think of him as a reminder of the pain. _She thinks, almost a little bit guilty. After all, he did save her. He did put himself in harm's way to protect her. He did let her hide in his warm, bruised arms in the pouring rain for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, she turns her body around to face him, and instantly a heavy lump fills her throat. She bites her lip, instantly turning away when he climbs into bed, turning her around to face him.

"You don't have to be scared of me," he whispers, his voice hoarse but comforting. He cups her face with both of his hands and makes her look into his eyes.

"I'm not s-scared of you," she begins quietly.

"Then why can't you look at me?"

"B-because… Seeing you reminds m-me of that night" she pauses "I-It reminds me of how _stupid _I am" she continues.

"You're not stupid," he says firmly. She immediately scoffs, pulling away from his grasp.

"Don't lie to me, Rhyze. I _know _I'm stupid. I'm a _stupid, worthless whore! _Why _else _would someone do that to me, hmm? W-why else would someone f-force themselves on me?" Slowly, tears began to stream from her eyes. She tries to run for the bathroom and cry herself to sleep inside the bath tub, but Rhyze forces her to stay.

"L-let go of me, Rhyze" she says angrily, trying to push him away.

"No,"

"I _said _let go of me. I want to f-forget about this, about all of this!" she practically begs him.

"I won't let you" he retorts.

"_Why _not?" she snaps. Why on Earth would he not want her to forget about what happened?

"Because t-that's not how you get over things!"

"Shut up!" she screams, slapping him across the face. His cheek reddens, but he stays adamant.

"You don't get over things by running away from it, you face it. You stick your chin up and say to yourself 'Okay, so and so happened. It hurts to think about it and it hurts to talk about it, but I will anyways, if only so that, by repeating it over and over, the pain begins to wear off'" the elder Archibald twin tells the brunette, wiping away the hot tears that have spread all over her cheeks.

"I-I can't… E-even after _years _I still can't talk about w-what happened before" she explains.

"No, no, Charlie look at me" he urge, taking her face with his hands again and pulling her closer to him. She avoids his gaze for awhile, but after his constant nagging his finally submits to his wishes.

"Every time you feel like you can't make it through the pain, you tell yourself you can" he tells her.

"But I can't" she points out, her voice louder.

"Yes, you can,"

"What if it happens again?" she asks, her gaze darkening at the very possibility. He shakes his head, pushing a stray hair away from her face.

"It won't," he assures her.

"How do you know?" she demands, whimpering "I mean, how do you _really _know it won't?"

"How do you really know it will?" he pushes her worried statement aside. Too tired to protest, she simply lays herself back down on the bed. She shuts her eyes, trying to will herself to relax. There's too much arguing, too much complication right now. All she wants is to have a moment of peace, a moment of silence, and neither Archibald twin was giving her that. She feels Rhyze's burning gaze on her, followed by him removing his shoes and adjusting the pillows for himself. He lays his head down on the pillow beside Charlie's head and faces her straight on, staring at her beautiful yet broken expression.

"I'll always be here for you, Charlie" Rhyze promises.

"Why? W-were not friends, remember?" she asks gently.

"We are now," he answers simply, removing his jacket and making himself comfortable beside her. She tries her best to muster up a smile, and though it's far from a genuine smile, it's a lot better than nothing at all.

"Hey Rhyze," she says

"Yeah?"

"I never thanked you for doing what you did… For saving me," she says gratefully. "You're not a bad guy… That I knew, the second I laid eyes on you, I knew there was more to you than meets the eye." Continues Charlie.

"You're wrong. Let me warn you now, Charlie, I'm not my brother, I'm not nice to sweet or loving like him" Rhyze says to her. It's better she knows now not to expect him to be anything like his brother than have to hurt her with the realization later. Instead or protesting, Charlie just nods rests in her arms. She knows that, unlike the emotionally brave Riley Archibald, Rhyze isn't one to bare his soul out.

_And that works, because I'm not either_

XoXo

**Hey, sorry it took so long to update but lots of things came up :(**

**Anyways, please review! What do you think? There's gonna be more Chair in the next one. What do you think of Rhyze? Hate him? Love him?**


	16. It's My Life

"Ahem," coughs the elder Waldorf standing at the doorway, still clad in her work attire. She gapes at the oh-so familiar image of Chuck Bass' body sprawled on the couch, the scent of booze and smoke filling the air. She sighs. She supposes that she should not be surprised with his actions. After all, Chuck was never one to face anything head on. Let alone the realization that he is as sleazy and disgusting as a pervert on the street.

Her mind wanders back to her own daughter, still hidden under the sheets of her four-poster bed with Rhyze Archibald serving as her shield. Perhaps the only difference between the two, really, is that Charlie seems to be much more open to being comforted by someone or something other than scotch and weed.

_Like father, Like daughter I suppose_ she thinks internally before walking up to Chuck's semi-unconscious form and reaching for his shoulder, trying to shake him into consciousness.

"Chuck," she whispers in his ear, trying to waken him. He grumbles, turning the opposite way to avoid Blair's constant nagging. She scoffs indignantly, using all her strength to pull him back up. Immediately, she notices that Chuck isn't only being stubborn, but is also under a heavy influence of alcohol.

"Blair Waldorf," he slurs, grinning ear-to-ear at the sight of Blair's face. She always was a beautiful woman. He raises his hand to caress her cheek, only for her to slap his hand away.

"See?" he says "Now that you know what I am capable off… You won't even let me touch you," he continues. Blair scrunches her eyebrows together, baffled by the statement.

"What are you talking about, Chuck?" the brunette asks gently, attempting not to provoke Chuck and force him into another one of his tirades. He shrugs, pursing his lips pensively.

"Like I have mentioned, I am a _rapist_..." slurs Chuck again, only to have Blair's hand slap him across the face in absolute horror and anger.

"CHUCK, WHILE I AM _MORE _THAN TOLERANT OF YOUR DRUNKEN RAMBLINGS, I WILL _NOT _TOLERATE YOU THROWING THAT WORD AROUND AS IF IT IS A PRONOUN!" Blair shrieks, huffing with anger. He snorts, sitting up and staring into Blair's eyes with the same amount of venom as her.

"Don't pretend as if I'm not," he hisses. She leans down, using her hands to pull his face closer to hers.

"Chuck Bass, you are a lot of things. You're manipulative, vindictive, stubborn and incredibly irritating but you are _not _a rapist! Stop saying that!" Blair reprimands, sick of Chuck and his obsession with bringing himself down even more.

"Why? Are you not strong enough to face the fact that you're in love with someone as dark and cold as myself?" the Bass patriarch challenges.

"I'm not in love with you," says Blair simply, annoyed at him even implying she is.

"Right,"

"What's that supposed to mean, Basshole?" Blair says, venom seething from her voice. When will Chuck stop this whole self-destructing act and focus more on the problem at hand?

"Why else would you care so much about me?" he whispers in Blair's ear, much to her horror. She fights back the urge to slap him across the face again. A second slap is never as effective as the first.

"Don't you _dare _twist my words around," the doe eyed woman says.

"Don't you dare deny it" Chuck retorts simply.

"Y-you…" Blair begins, unable to find words to describe his unacceptable behaviour.

"What? You bastard? You asshole? You cynical, deceitful pervert?" he suggests, the words meant to hurt him instead of work as ammo for his and Blair's current argument.

"You say you hate yourself, that you're destined for hell, and yet you continue to hurt those who care about you," says Blair, immense power and firmness palpable in her voice. She stands up, unable to stay in such close proximity of him after everything he has just said.

"Why Waldorf, I never knew you cared that much," Chuck says, mockery dripping off his voice. He smirks, thinking he's won the argument.

"I was talking about Charlie," Blair deadpans. She turns around and sees Chuck's slightly sobered and softened expression, his eyes unable to conceal his concern.

"You don't think she noticed your absence? That you've suddenly stopped calling and coming over? She notices, Chuck. Do you know what I heard her tell Rhyze during breakfast yesterday morning? I heard her say that she's scared you hate her…" Blair scoffs, unable to hide her own malice towards Chuck. Once again, Chuck cares more about his own feelings rather than someone else's.

"S-she said that she thought you didn't want to see her, because you're so _embarrassed _that you have a daughter like her… She's scared, Chuck. A lot more scared than I thought possible. Dorota tells me that she sometimes pees herself in her sleep, that she wakes up in the middle of the night scrambling out the room because she's so scared of the dark.

She's so scared that she hasn't come to school for the past week. She's so scared that she steals a butter knife from dinner and hides it underneath her pillow, just in case someone happens to walk in… Charlie is _so _scared of being alone that she's gotten little to no sleep"

Chuck gulps, unable to take the guilt. Blair's right, Charlie is frightened. Attempted rape once, Chuck could almost comprehend with the right amount of toxins in him, but twice is simply impossible to understand and accept. He tries to come up with something, anything to try and convince himself that staying away from Charlie would ultimately be good for her. That way, she would not have to be in the same vicinity as him. But he can't. Not after what Blair has just said.

"I don't want to hurt her," Chuck whimpers.

"How can you?" Blair challenges "You did what you did, Chuck. There's no denying it, no running from it. Now here you are, faced with a _real _opportunity to salvage yourself and Charlie. You're hurting her more by staying away than you are by running," explains Blair softly. Chuck gulps, standing himself up.

"I'll get dressed" is all he says before walking into his room.

XoXo

"What'd you tell Riley?" inquires Charlotte "Charlie" Waldorf-Bass as she flips through the channels on the Waldorf's flat screen television, still clad in her pajamas from yesterday. Standing in front of her is Rhyze Archibald, dressed in his Saint Judes Uniform. She looks up at him expectantly, only for him to shrug.

"That I was meeting with a friend from soccer camp, again" replies Rhyze, taking a seat beside Charlie, resting his feet on the coffee table. Charlie moves the blanket around to cover both her and Rhyze, who tries to fight back the urge to smile.

What has been going on with him? He knew very well that before the incident occurred, he was already attracted to the dark-haired brunette sitting beside him. But for him to feel as if his stomach was uneasy whenever she touches him was beyond him.

_It's probably just physical attraction, after all, even in sweats and her roughest condition yet, she still sparkles of beauty… _Rhyze can't help but observe, only to be snapped out of his thoughts by Charlie speaking again.

"Oh, he bought that excuse again?" Charlie asks, unable to help herself from being surprised. While Riley is a good friend of hers, even she has to admit that he's not the most observant bloke on the block.

"He's Riley, if you can tell him that the sky's purple with a straight face, he'll believe it" Rhyze replies, shrugging. Charlie shakes her head, staring at him.

"Why do you hate your brother so much?" she inquires, finally asking him the biggest question on her mind since she met him. She thinks that she almost saw him flinch, but he recovered so quickly that she has to think back to it to try and remember. Unsure of what to say, Rhyze ignores the question completely.

"I've told you everything about myself," Charlie begins quietly, looking down at the silk pillow on her lap. "I've told you every dark thought that's gone through my mind, every immoral action… I'd be the _last _person to judge whatever you have to say," she continues.

"You'd judge," he replies simply.

"I wouldn't,"

"Why not?" he replies. She shrugs nonchalantly.

"Because I know you're not as bad as you make yourself out to be," the brunette replies, looking up at him with her beautiful, but distant, Emerald orbs. Rhyze bites his lip, turning away. _Why did she have to be so damn gorgeous? Why can't she just be ugly, it would make her a lot easier to look at? _He thinks in panic.

"No, I downplay it so that you won't hate me" Rhyze responds easily. She chuckles.

"I could never hate you," she says. Before he responds, she cuts him off "And you're wrong about that, Rhyze. You're a good guy. Underneath this whole 'screw-over-my-brother' exterior you're genuinely a good person" Rhyze scoffs, making Charlie's hopeful smirk falter.

"It's not a façade, Charlie. I genuinely do want to screw Riley over" Rhyze says, surprised he's even admitting it. Never once has he had the courage to tell anyone about his feelings towards Riley. He's never told his mother, father, Reese or any one of his best friends. He looks up at her, wondering if it's her enchanting beauty or the fact that she seems to genuinely care about him that's making him admit all of this.

"Why would you want to do that?" she asks, her voice calm and rational.

"Because the bastard gets everything!" he snaps, unable to bite back the hidden anger he buried long ago in his heart. "No one _ever _reprimands him for being informal, for being stupid, for being immature or for not being there when you need him to be! All anyone ever does is praise the ground he walks on, as if he's so amazing!

I try, Charlie. I have the highest GPA, I attend all the society events, I stay out of trouble and I keep him and Reese in line! But no one cares about what I do, all they care about is Riley. What's so good about him, anyway? He can't possibly be more handsome than myself, have you seen us!" Rhyze scoffs before realizing how arrogant and conceited that must have sounded to Charlie. The elder Archibald twin looks up, expecting her face to curl with the utmost disgust for his bitter feelings. Instead she just nods, understanding where he's coming from.

Charlie leans closer to him, pursing her lips in thought. He looks away, annoyed.

"Did you ever think that maybe Riley is just trying to survive?" she points out. He turns to her, eyebrows raised.

"What do you mean?" asks Rhyze slowly, trying to comprehend what she's saying.

"More than _anything_, it is much more likely that Riley could be just as insecure about you as you are about him" she pauses, leaning closer to try and make her voice more heard. "I know you think that Riley is stupid, but I seriously doubt that he's moronic enough to not notice what he lacks in himself" explains Charlie, reaching out for his hand.

"There is absolutely no reason for you to be jealous of your brother," the brunette says quietly.

"I'M NOT JEALOUS OF HIM!" he snaps, pulling away from her grasp, shutting her out.

"I just _hate _how everyone perceives him to be the better twin, the better man. He's not," Rhyze continues, the anger in his chest slowly going out of control.

"No one thinks that,"

"My mom, my dad, Reese, my so-called friends, the society pages, the entire Upper East Side community, my relatives and probably anyone walking down the street!" snaps Rhyze, about to continue when Charlie pipes in.

"I don't think that," Rhyze's blue-green eyes immediately look up to Charlie's flushed face turning away from his gaze.

"W-what did you just say?" The brunette bites down on her lower lip.

"I never thought for a _second _that Riley was better than you" _How can she not think that? _Rhyze asks himself. _Even I think that! _He stares at her, completely bewildered.

"I always, and I'll kill you if you repeat this to him or anyone else, knew that you were the Archibald twin for me" admits Charlie, gathering the courage to look at him in the face.

"Because no matter what anyone else says about Riley being a _free, realistic spirit _like myself, I know he'll never get me" Charlie shakes her head, unable to cope with the fact that she's actually saying any of these things to Rhyze. "Not the way you do, the way I always knew you did"

"We… We weren't even friends then…" stutters Rhyze

"We didn't need to be" Charlie says.

"Then how did you... How did you know?"

"I just… Knew"

XoXo

The Archibald twins and their younger sister stood outside their father's study, anxiously awaiting for their father and mother to call each one of them in for their two-on-one 'conversations'.

Code for disciplinary hearing, of course.

"You look a little worried" Rhyze points out, staring at his younger sister sitting quietly down on the ground.

"How can I not be? I bet you my new Jimmy Choo pumps that they're going to ride me about 'getting to know' Xavier Coates, as if I don't already know that they've been trying to arrange a PR relationship between the congressman's daughter and the mayor's son" snaps reese, snorting at the thought of having to spend time and pretend to like the overly tedious Xavier Coates.

"It could be worse, RL" Riley points out

"How can anything be worse than having to go to several society gatherings with Xavier Coates?" she inquires, raising an elegant eyebrow

"Well you could be called in to talk about potential universities, only for dad to conclude that you're not nearly intelligent enough to get to even see the campus" Riley points out, thinking about the numerous instances his dad, congressman Nathaniel Archibald, has chided him about his next to non-existent GPA. Riley sighs, glancing up at his twin brother.

Rhyze simply remains silent, unmoved by his siblings' pathetic rants about their parent's dissatisfaction with themselves. He, for one, cannot relate to the feeling. Not only has he accomplished being head of _every _notable club in school, but he also has the highest GPA in school. If that is not enough to have both his mother and father proud of him, he doesn't know what else would do the trick.

Their father, Nate Archibald, steps out of the door, simply glancing at his children. He catches his eldest son's eyes and nods in acknowledgement, gesturing for him to enter. Instead of his face curling into a wide-eyed expression of panic like his brother and sister's face would have, he simply bites back a cocky smirk before walking in. His younger siblings share a look, mocking him behind his back. Rhyze rolls his eyes, entering the room.

Rhyze sits on the leather seat right across from his father's ancient and antique seat across from him, both being separated by a desk. His mother, the famous movie star Serena VanDerWoodsen-Archibald, stands right beside the seat and gives Rhyze a small smile.

_Bullshit, she hates me… _Rhyze thinks, fighting the urge to act anything less than a perfect, Upper East Side gentlemen that he is. _That's not exactly the easiest thing to do when your mother thinks of you as a devil in Versace _Rhyze says. To say the least, his mother was not his biggest fan. Though Serena never mentions anything, Rhyze can tell from the way Serena looks at him that she hates him.

Unlike Riley, Rhyze did not win his mother's stamp of approval. Rhyze can already guess that it pertains to him being far too distant both emotionally and mentally. Never once does he let his guard down, choosing to always come off as apathetic and unwelcoming as opposed to his overly-passionate twin. By doing so, Rhyze can tell that his mother simply cannot understand.

_In some ways, I think I'm more like Uncle Chuck or Aunt Blair compared to my parents, _Rhyze thinks solemnly, sitting down and looking at both of his parents expectantly.

"Rhyze," Nate acknowledges him, taking a seat and shooting his son a fatherly smile. Rhyze smiles in return, flashing both of his parents his insanely attractive and charming grin that makes all the paparazzi and society women swoon.

"Father, Mother, what can I do for you?" he asks formally, not wanting to sound like some suburban, middle class New Jersey teenager.

"Your Uncle Chuck told us to thank you" Serena answers, looking down at Nate and then back up at her eldest son, the corners of her lips lifting up.

"For what?" asks Rhyze, pretending not to already know.

"For Charlie," answers Nate, caught off-guard by the slightly affectionate and nostalgic look that flashed quickly in his son's blue-green eyes. Rhyze nods, trying to not imagine the gorgeous and alluring brunette whom he has, within weeks, grown into caring about. He tries not to think about how her hair always smells like some kind of fruit, or how her lips seemed to be so perky and pink that he has to fight the urge to simply caress them with his hands.

_No, stop it, don't let her get to you! She's just another pretty face, Rhyze. She's just another pretty face in a room full of beautiful girls. Don't, for one second, think that she's anything more than that! _He scolds himself, unable to accept the fact that he has begun becoming more and more attached to her. He couldn't be. He isn't about to let Charlie Bass, a young, classless orphan, get the better of him.

"Oh, well, I'm trying to do what I can under the circumstances," replies Rhyze, trying to conceal any emotion that might penetrate through his voice.

"Chuck and Blair are really grateful for you being there, for saving her… For everything," Serena concludes, looking at Rhyze as if he's grown a second head. The famous movie star knows both of her sons inside and out. And though Rhyze doesn't like to show it, she knows that underneath his cold façade there's an entire other person just waiting to be understood.

_So why doesn't he just let the world know how caring and understanding he can actually be? _Serena asks herself. Throughout Rhyze's life, there has only been a handful of times that Serena can remember when Rhyze's guard wasn't up. During those times, Serena managed to catch a glimpse of the real Rhyze Archibald. The Rhyze Archibald who's overly-protective, vulnerable and lonely. The Rhyze that no one ever has the privilege of seeing.

_But that's been changing lately, hasn't it? _Notes Serena. It didn't take her long to notice the sudden change in Rhyze's personality. Sure, he's still introverted and polite and detached, but there's something about the way his eyes have been showing off his emotions lately. Out of nowhere, the Rhyze that Serena knows exists beneath the charming grin and the cold, nonchalant remarks has been seeping out. And she knows who to credit for that.

_It's quite sad that a situation like this is what it takes for Rhyze to open himself up… _

"How has she been lately?" asks Nate, eyebrows raised in concern and curiosity. "Neither one of her parents have been saying anything. Not that I can really blame them, it's surely not something they'd like to talk about with anyone else" continues Nate.

"I'm scared she'll never be okay," Rhyze admits quietly, catching both of his parents off guard by the answer. "She's tries to forget about it, but she can't… She's scared to go to Aunt Blair or Uncle Chuck because she's so scared that they'll be ashamed of her" he bites his lip, looking down at his lap. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything. For all he knew, everything that has occurred between him and Charlie behind closed doors were a secret. But still, he'd already mentioned it.

"They'd never do that," Nate assures him.

"If there is anything I know about Chuck and Blair, it's that they care about Charlie more than anything else in the world," Serena pipes in, sending her son a comforting gaze.

"I know… I'm just not sure she does, that's all" the elder Archibald twin replies quietly before turning his gaze back to his father's, his face dark and serious.

"Don't tell me all you wanted to talk about is Charlie," Rhyze says, his voice shedding no emotion. The senator inwardly shakes his head, not bothering to be even remotely surprised of his son's quick change from actual human being to robot. The Archibald patriarch sits up, inwardly coughing.

"Yes, well, there is an important matter that I wish to speak to you about, Rhyze" begins Nate. "As you know, every prestigious family on the Upper East Side is already planning on showcasing their daughter at the debutante ball to be held at the Empire this year"

"I'm aware,"

"Who you take to the debutante ball impacts your social standing for the _rest _of your adolescent life on the Upper East Side," continues the blond male sitting behind the desk.

"Or at least until you're named the head of household," Serena points out. Around the Upper East Side, every family, or rather every prestigious household selects a family head. The family head or head of household as more formally referred to, is responsible for representing the family, handling financial matters and taking over the family business. Like the Basses with their hotels and the Humphreys with their literary legacies, the Archibald family's own 'family business' is their politics.

Even at the ripe age of twelve, both Serena and Nate had agreed that their family head would be Rhyze once Nate retires from his post two to three years from now. One would assume that between two insanely competitive twins, Riley would be angry that he was not selected, but that was never an issue.

_After all, not only does Riley lack the skill for it, he lacks the motivation for it… _Thinks Serena. The blond bombshell knows that Riley is far from the 'family head' type. He's overly-passionate, rebellious and spontaneous. He has no sense of finances and no direction in his life whatsoever.

_Not to say that we have not considered Reese… _Serena reminds herself. It had nothing to do with age or sex, as one would think considering the circumstances. It had more to do with Reese being… _A self-absorbed, spineless brat? _Serena can't help but shamefully think. Unlike her two elder brothers, she's neither a rebel or a leader. Instead, she's frivolous, narcissistic and much too concerned with bagging a wealthy man by the time she's twenty-one. That alone would not do very well for their family's image.

"We don't think you should invite Charlie," says Nate quietly, looking down at his papers. A look of pure bewilderment and indignation flashed from Rhyze's face.

"Why not?" he inquires, attempting to keep his voice low and steady.

"Her reputation and her lack of _experience _with these type of events would do quite some damage to your clean reputation," answers Nate, quite ashamed that he is even saying anything like this. Growing up, he fought against the Upper East Side's social climbing tactics and regulations, now here he is, telling his own son that he cannot invite the only girl who has ever made him fell anything real in his entire life.

"That's not how it is," deadpans Rhyze.

"Do you seriously think so, Rhyze?" challenges Nate, eyebrows raised. Out of all of his children, Nate knows that it is Rhyze who is much more image-conscious than anyone else. So for Rhyze to not see the bad aspects of taking Charlie was beyond him.

"Maybe she's not fit to be the perfect debutante, but I want to go with her anyways," Rhyze says, his voice steady, but the sound of protest and indignation palpable in his strained voice.

"Really?" Serena can't help but hold back the shock.

"Really," Rhyze retorts, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Look, Rhyze, admittedly between you and your brother, it's easy to say that you are the one who upholds the family's honor the most in the society pages," begins Nate, hating every word that is coming out of his mouth.

"I just don't want your newfound friendship with Charlie to get in the way of this," continues Nate.

"How would she do that, father? Aside from the fact that she's actually nice AND drop-dead gorgeous, she's also a Bass and a Waldorf, two families that have been on the Upper East Side for generations!" protests the Saint Judes student. He turns to his mother, who remains silent throughout the conversation. He stares at her, waiting for her to back him up.

"Nate, what's the worst that could happen? Rhyze makes a good point. Besides, since when did 'image' matter to you, anyways?" The Oscar-winning movie star says convincingly.

"It matters when your youngest son is rumored to have a _sex tape _on the internet," reveals Nate, causing both Rhyze and Serena's jaws to drop in absolute shock.

"W-what?" asks Serena silently, her eyes wide with terror.

"That's right… Rhyze, I know this isn't fair, you having to make up for your brother's mistakes, but we're family… Please understand, Rhyze" Rhyze remains silent, figuring out his response. As opposed to replying 'I understand' like Nate expects him too, like everyone expects him too, he stands up and turns away from them. He starts to walk away, but not before replying:

"It's my life,"

**XoXo**

**Sorry for taking so long to update, I understand how irritating it is. But please understand that not only have I began working and having most of my free time stripped away from me, but I am also studying and have family/friend obligations. But at least I did it, right? What do you think? More Rhyze/Charlie interaction. We get to see more of the REAL Rhyze! YEY! Also, a small Chair scene to keep all you Chair fans in check. What do you guys think of Rhyze? REVIEW!**


	17. A Lovely Confession

"Charlie, you don't have to go in there," whispers Chuck Bass, closing the door that the limo driver began to pull open. The brunette jumps at the loud collision between the door and the rest of the overly-lavish vehicle and smiles nervously, obviously trying to feign her nervousness.

"W-what? N-no, it's fine…" replies Charlie awkwardly, coughing slightly.

"Charlie, if you're not ready-" the Bass entrepreneur begins to reason when Blair Waldorf, who is sitting right across from the two, interrupts.

"She's ready," says Blair simply, catching her green-eyed daughter's gaze. Normally, Blair would have been the first to beckon the driver to turn the limo around. But not this time. As much as she would like to keep the former orphan in her penthouse, hugging her and giving her hot chocolate for her misery, she knows more than anyone that seclusion from others won't help her resolve anything. With that being said, it is needless to say that the famous talk show host will continue to push the young beauty out the doors.

"Blair," Chuck snaps.

"She's right," Charlie says decisively. Before either parent can react, Charlie uses her boot-covered food and arm to open the limo doors and thrust her petite frame out of the car and onto the pavement, her plaid skirt swishing as she does. She doesn't look back, choosing to look forward and make herself defiant to all the curious stares she's receiving.

Both dark-haired brunettes sitting in the limo watch her, awaiting her first move back at Constance Billard. Would she shy away to a corner until the bell rang? Would she hide in the library? Would she abandon the whole idea and run for the Bronx? Both are surprised when she does neither of these things.

Instead, Charlie raises her head high and carries herself with as much confidence as she can muster. She begins to walk, barely sparing the gossip-hungry mongrels on the two prestigious schools a glance. Blair and Chuck look closer, noting that a tall redhead by the name of Brooke Baizen stood in the center of the courtyard, smiling both proudly and encouragingly at the thin brunette. Charlie makes her way towards her and envelopes the girl into a tight embrace, unknowingly hiking her already short skirt up by a few more inches for the male cads to smile at one another.

Brooke carries Charlie away from Chuck and Blair's line of sight, forcing both of them to sit back down on their seat and let the now-impatient limo driver shut the door.

"Do you think she's going to be okay?" Blair immediately inquires, worry etched all over her wrinkle free face. Chuck looks at her, his heart almost breaking at the beauty and emotion that can radiate on Blair's face. Usually, Blair's face is either hostile or cold. This time, a new emotion is being expressed from her facial expression. It is a look of pure maternal instinct and protection, one that makes Blair look far from the bitchy Ice Queen of the Upper East Side and more like any other protective female.

"I hope so," replies Chuck quietly. Both fall into an uneasy silence as the limo drives away from the school. For awhile, neither one is sure of what to say to one another. As the gas-consuming vehicle stops in front of a spotlight, the female brunette coughs inwardly.

"It was nice of you to volunteer taking Charlie to school on her first day back," Chuck nods.

"It's the least I could do after being so… Distant" replies Chuck, a hint of sadness and displeasure mixed into his voice. She nods, understanding his need to redeem himself to both Charlie and her eyes.

"She's getting better… At least I think she is," the Waldorf matriarch says thoughtfully, though a hint of disapproval and disappointment is clearly palpable in her voice.

"She got a full evening of uninterrupted sleep last night," he points out.

"You mean after Doctor Finch drugged her?" retorts Blair harshly, unaware of her cold, unkind tone. Instead of arguing with the 40-something legacy, Chuck simply sighs.

"At least she opened herself up to _being _drugged. Remember when she wouldn't even let Doctor Finch in her room last week? It's an improvement. Sure, she's far from cured-" tries to reason the rich entrepreneur.

"Far being an understatement," chides Blair. Chuck groans, rolling his eyes.

"Can't you just be proud of Charlie for even overcoming some of the trauma she's been subjected too?" snaps Chuck, Blair's irritating negativity beginning to get on his last nerve. She sends him a death glare from across the limo.

"I _am _proud,"

"Sure, because you constantly bringing her down for not getting over everything is being _proud_," taunts Chuck.

"At least I'm there for her. What about you, Basshole? Where were you? Where were you when she needed you, hmm?" challenges Blair, venom seeping from her feminine voice.

"Don't do this, Waldorf. Don't make it seem as if I haven't been trying to be there for her," he warns her, his voice tight and hitched.

"YOU HAVEN'T! I was there, Chuck! I was the one sitting outside her bedroom, begging her to let me in a day after everything! I was the one who ran to Saks to buy new sheets after she soiled each of mine with vomit, alcohol, pee or tears! I was the one who replaced her single bed with a king after Rhyze continuously sleeps over-" Blair ends her rant, pursing her lips in fear.

_Shit, I promised both Charlie AND Serena and Nate that I wouldn't tell anyone about that! _Blair thinks, mentally scolding herself for letting something of that sort slip out of her mouth. She avoids Chuck's deathly glare by peering out the tinted windows, ironically catching a glimpse of the large Nate Archibald campaign posters being wiped off after he had won the election three months ago.

"WHAT?" he hisses angrily. "You're letting Rhyze Archibald sleep in the _same bed _as our daughter?" snaps Chuck, clearly seething with rage from his seat.

"He's her friend," Blair attempts to reason.

"Right, because any hormonal sixteen-year-old boy would consider sleeping in the same bed with a vulnerable unofficial beauty queen as friendship, right?" retorts the Bass entrepreneur. Blair scoffs.

"Stop being so malicious, Bass! He just wants to help her-"

"HELP HER? Blair, I know that while you've always had these rather out-there, fairytale fantasies, but I never thought that you'd be _stupid _enough to let him sleep in the same bed as her!" Says Chuck.

"They don't do ANYTHING!"

"Oh, okay, and that's supposed to help me sleep at night? The fact that they're not _doing anything_?" he replies coldly. "Well what if he tries something, Blair?"

"He wouldn't," says Blair simply.

"Don't be delusional. I know you, Waldorf. You're not that moronic. Surely even you're aware of what any man is capable of" Chuck points out.

"Not every man is you, Chuck. I trust Rhyze Archibald! And I'm damn sure that you do too! He's a good guy, Chuck. He wouldn't try anything with Charlie unless he knew she was ready." Chuck shakes his head.

"Trust has nothing to do with it, Blair. Rhyze is still a man! Do you really think that he hasn't thought of getting something out of sleeping in the same bed with Charlie for the past two weeks?"

"Chuck, even if he has there's a difference between him actually pursuing any of those dreams" She replies reasonably.

"Blair, I'm done with this conversation," snaps Chuck, rubbing his temples as the limo turn a corner.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asks Blair, bewildered.

"I'm not arguing about this anymore. Let me break it down for you, Waldorf. I _forbid _Rhyze Archibald from sleeping over. I don't care if he's sleeping in the room across from hers or in the living room, he's not allowed to sleep in the penthouse anymore," Chuck says forcefully, barely giving Blair a second glance. She snorts, clearly irritated by Chuck believing he has any right to dictate how she would run her household.

"That's not up to you, Chuck" Blair points out.

"Yes it is, I'm her father. She's a Bass. It is up to me," he states in a matter-of-fact manner.

"No it's not. I'm her mother. She's _also _a Waldorf and she's living under my roof" retorts Blair.

"I'm the man here, Blair. I'm the father. I make these decisions!"

"Way to live in the 16th century you sexist, inconsiderate pig!" snaps Blair. She breathes out loudly, letting out some steam as the limo finally stops in front of the Waldorf penthouse.

"Rhyze is still allowed to sleepover. End of discussion. He is the only person that Charlie actually trusts and relies on, I'm not going to be some vindictive, cruel bitch and take that away from her" hisses Blair firmly before stepping out of the limo and slamming the door in Chuck's face.

XoXo

"Wow, for once people _aren't _staring at you for being drop-dead gorgeous" jokes Brooke Baizen as she and Charlie walk out of their third period class together. She looks over at the silent brunette, trying her best not to reach for her and pull her into a tight embrace. Brooke has never been one for hugging, but after the confirmed sexual abuse inflicted on the young foster child has been splashed across page six, she can't help but feel more than a little bit sympathetic.

"No, I guess they're not," responds Charlie silently, barely giving Brooke anything that could spark a more meaningful conversation than 'I got a new pair of Marc Jacob boots' or 'Our Italian teacher is a bitch'. The red-head nods, scowling as she whizzes past two freshman brunettes forming hearts with their hands for what they believe to be supportive. They both look away, flushed and humiliated.

"Want to have lunch at the Met with me?" Charlie raises her gaze from the calculus textbook she is attempting to balance in her bony arms along with the rest of her textbooks.

"I don't think so," answers Charlie.

"Why not?" inquires Brooke, her voice neither rude nor angry, simply curious. They walk through the large double doors known as the 'main entrance' and make their way down the stairs towards the courtyard. Charlie bites back a slight gasp when she sees Kyle of all people standing in the centre of the courtyard, looking at her expectantly. Before Charlie could react, Brooke is already running down the stairs and towards the muscular man.

"Kyle, right?" Brooke asks, tilting her heart-shaped face to the right. She illuminates with predatory allure. Kyle looks at her as if she's some five hundred pound sumo wrestler, a mixture of curiosity and fear instilled in his eyes.

"Yeah," he answers.

"I'm Brooke," says the redhead, extending her hand to the Vietnamese man. He shakes it firmly, too distracted by Charlie standing at the very top of the outdoor staircase, gaping at him as if he has grown a second head. Brooke, reading both of their thoughts, sprints right back up the stairs to Charlie, who has still not moved from her position.

"I'll see you at the Met in five minutes, okay?" taken back by this, Brooke nods as she lets Charlie's petite figure walk past her and towards Kyle.

XoXo

"What are you doing here?" asks Charlotte "Charlie" Waldorf-Bass coldly, holding her books as well as herself together with her tiny arms wrapped around her waist. This actions is able to support both her notebooks and textbook, as well as the urge to drop her entire body down on the cement ground and go into a fetus position.

"Everyone heard," she hears another voice respond. Charlie tears her Emerald orbs away from Kyle's pensive dark eyes to the two figures behind him. There stood Felix and Xavier, two of Charlie's foster home childhood friends. Something in Charlie wanted everything to go back to the way it was. Something in her wanted to go back living in a small house in the Bronx, sneaking vodka out of the convenience store and drinking it on the rooftop of the abandoned fire building whilst bitching about their tragic lives in a humorous manner. Felix, a muscular seventeen-year-old of apparent Italian descent, sneers in mock-contempt.

"Fuck, Charlie. Nice _uniform_," mocks Felix, half-kidding and half-serious, walking towards Charlie and wrapping his arm around her neck.

"You smell like beer," she points out, barely bothered by her best friend being wasted this early in the day. If she can recall accurately, she's pretty sure that she's been even more wasted earlier in the day than Felix is right now.

"And you, dear Charlie, smell like… Oranges," says Felix, ruffling her chestnut brown hair jokingly.

"Charlie, mind setting me up with that ginger with the big tits?" Xavier, a tall and lean twenty-year-old Mexican, asks, turning around and trying to catch a glimpse of the already-gone Brooke Baizen.

"What are you all doing here?" Charlie asks slowly, enunciating every word. She turns to Kyle, who grips his motorcycle helmet tightly, clearly holding back his anger and irritation towards the brunette.

"Xavier and I wanted to make sure you were okay," slurs Felix, nodding towards Xavier for effect. "Kyle here gave us a ride," continues Xavier, pointing at Kyle.

"Right well… Excuse me then," snaps Charlie, shoving past all three of them angrily. Kyle raises an eyebrow, sneering in annoyance.

"Bitch," he hisses, loud enough for the few occupants of the courtyard to hear. Charlie halts, frozen as she narrows her eyes, turning her heel as she walks right back up to Kyle and slaps him across the face.

"Fuck you," she snaps.

"W-what the hell is your problem?" Kyle asks in a bare whisper, his voice hurt by her cold demeanor and actions.

"You," answers Charlie hesitantly. "All of you..." she continues. Both Felix and Xavier look first at each other, then at Charlie in confusion. Their stares, clearly showing off a high amount of bewilderment, slowly mold into absolute bitterness. The now sober Felix is the first to respond to the harsh blow, scoffing in contempt.

"Wow, okay, I get it… Damnit Charlie, are you really this big of a self-centered bitch? WE ARE YOUR FAMILY, CHARLIE! Not these stuffy, rich snobs! Stop pushing us OUT of your life! Ever since we've all met we have been a family, okay? A family that stuck together throughout all the shit that came our way! Now suddenly your loaded _mummy and daddy_ come into the picture and you forget about that! Well you know what, we're done with you… Let's go," snaps Felix angrily, stomping away from the now-silenced brunette.

Xavier, clearly just as upset as Felix, shakes his head in disbelief before following right after Felix. As he walks, he turns his back to face Charlie, yelling "Fuck you!"

The only one left is Kyle, who simply gapes at the green-eyed girl. She then faces him, her gaze cold and lacking the warmth that would emit from her once-sparkling eyes whenever he was around. Kyle grips her hand and attempts to drag her to a small corner at the far left side of the now deserted courtyard. When she refuses, he grabs her petite waist and easily throws her over his shoulder, much to her protest.

"LET GO OF ME!" she yells angrily, using her arms to hit his back in palpable protest. He stops at the corner, where no one could see both of them and drops her figure down on her feet. Before Charlie could say anything he leans closer to her, forcing her back onto the brick wall. Kyle breathes out, trying his best to not throw a loud, angry fit like he would with anyone else. Charlie isn't anyone else.

"What's wrong?" asks Kyle, his voice tight and cold.

"Go away," Charlie replies, the same amount of anger in her voice.

"No," he says. "I came here, worried out of my fucking mind, only for you to blow me off! I get that loads of shit has gone down but for God's sake, Charlie! All I want is to be here for you!"

"I-I can't deal with this right now, okay? J-just leave me alone,"

"No,"

"Why not?"

"Because I love you, Charlie!" admits Kyle, practically punching the brick wall. He shuts his dark eyes, not believing what he had just admitted to the now wide-eyed girl.

"I-I always have, Charlie… I wanted to be with you," he pauses "But then you wanted to be with your parents so I told myself 'This isn't the time' so I told myself to wait, wait until you're ready. Then you moved in with them and suddenly… It's like I don't even exist anymore! You kept keeping me out of your _new life_! So I got pissed and I left you alone because I t-thought that, that's what you needed. But then I found out about what happened…" Kyle stops, his fists tightening. Every single thing that Kyle had felt for months was finally coming out.

"I f-found out and I felt guilty. I thought that if I had just told you earlier, maybe things would have been different. Maybe I could have prevented it from happening-" rants Kyle.

"Nothing could have stopped it from happening," interrupts Charlie solemnly. Kyle stares into her deep green eyes.

"Give me a change. We can forget about everything that's been going on throughout these past few months and just start over," he whispers in her ear. Charlie trembles, the feel of his warm lips near her ear. _What's going on? _She thinks inwardly, confused. A few seconds ago, they were at each other's throats, close to killing each other, and now he's here. _Kyle… The one and only guy I've ever really trusted, really cared about, asking me to be his… _Her eyes widen, not catching what he had said as he pulls away from her ear. He rests his forehead on her.

"W-what did you just say?" she asks, fidgeting under his closeness and intense stare.

"What do you think?" he repeats, his voice calm and understanding.

"About what?" Charlie asks dumbly, feeling tension rise from Kyle's body.

"About us," he replies, his voice louder.

"What about it?"

"Are you really this stupid?" he asks.

"Charlie, I'm the guy for you. Yes, I know we've never had that kind of relationship b-but I'm crazy about you. And I'll do everything within my power to help you through everything. If you want me to move to Manhattan, done! I'll get my social worker to move me to a foster home here. If you want me to go back to high school, done! I'll go back and actually try! If you want me to _hang out _with your new friends, done! I'll get my _tux _fitted," says Kyle, running his fingers through her chestnut brown hair.

"I-If you don't want to do… _Anything_, that's fine. I-I'm okay with waiting. I'll do anything, say anything, _be _anything for you… All you need to do is want it, Charlie. All you need to do is want me," Kyle brings his lips closer to hers.

Unable to protest under the pressure, Kyle's lips caress hers. For awhile, he just kisses her, the amount of passion being placed into the kiss heightening as time goes on. Then, as quickly as the passion escalates, it decreases rapidly. He pulls away, the taste and feel of saltwater that has run from her eyes to her lips stopping him.

"I-I don't want," she shakes her head rapidly. "I-I'm sorry, I-I should have known better than to just," Kyle begins to apologize, only to be interrupted by Charlie's voice.

"Kyle," she attempts to say firmly despite her flushed face, shaking body and tears running down from her face.

"I-I always thought of you as the one I'd end up with, the one I'd fall in love with… I-I may not be that smart or self-aware but I always knew that that's where we were heading," she begins, her heart breaking even more when a smile tugs on the corners of Kyle's lips.

"B-but that's not the case anymore, Kyle. I-It's different now, I'm different now… _So many things _have happened that I just _can't _let go of…"

"What are you saying?"

"W-what I'm saying is that… I don't love you, not the way you need me to at least," Charlie admits.

"I don't want to be with you… I am so, _so sorry_," is all Charlie can say before she breaks away from his grasp, quickly gathering the books that she had carelessly dropped on the ground and ran as far away from him as possible.

"I'm so sorry," she apologizes again, tears running down her eyes as she walks out of the courtyard, knowing fully well that, in just a matter of seconds, she's broken her best friend's heart. She takes a quick glance back before making her way to the Met, trying to shake off the disturbing and heartbreaking image of Kyle. The image of Kyle, her best friend and, in some way, the love of her life, cry.

XoXo

"Charlie?" Blair's voice rings through the hallways of the Waldorf penthouse, her dark brown eyes looking throughout her large home for her daughter. She walks to the kitchen, where Charlie is found sitting on the counter drinking coffee from a large, porcelain cup that could hold twice the amount of coffee a normal cup would.

"H-hey, what's wrong?" Blair asks quietly, placing her bottom on the counter as well.

"I'm guessing the kids at school were giving you a hard time?" When Charlie doesn't respond, she takes a deep breath. "If you're really not ready to go back, surely we can get another week off for you too-" the elder brunette's words are interrupted by Charlie's.

"Can you just go?" snaps Charlie irritably, her anger towards herself getting the better of her. Blair stops talking, eyes darkening at Charlie's tone. Over her and Charlie's short relationship, Charlie has always managed to relatively avoid being anything close to disrespectful or mean to Blair. For the Waldorf matriarch to finally see the dark side of her daughter is, to say the least, rather surprising.

"Charlie, I'm just trying to help," reasons Blair calmly.

"Well then stop," she retorts bitterly, hopping off the cold counter top. Her biological mother sighs deeply, shaking her head.

"You can talk to me about anything. You don't need to be strong for me," Blair tries to console her daughter, only for her to snort in annoyance.

"You don't get it at all, okay?" says Charlie, her voice now loud and passionate. "Y-you don't u-understand what I'm going through… You don't know w-what it's like, you never will… So just do the _honorable_ thing and _leave me alone_," Charlie states, walking out of the Waldorf kitchen before Blair could protest.

Charlie stomps out of the penthouse's kitchen and up the staircase, barely acknowledging Chuck's presence. Chuck tries to stop Charlie from running back into her room, only for Charlie to push him away and run up the stairs. The male Bass' gaze doesn't falter from his daughter's retreating form.

"W-what did I miss?" inquires Chuck softly, looking up to see Blair's concerned expression.

"I-I don't know," admits Blair.

"No doubt it has something to do with that Archibald kid," Chuck snaps suspiciously, reaching for his Blackberry when Blair walks up to him, eyebrows fussed together.

"You mean Rhyze? What would he have to do with this?" Blair asks innocently.

"Think about it, Blair. The only person aside from you, me and Dorota who has seen Charlie is Rhyze. You really think that he didn't tell at least one person about Charlie?" challenges Chuck, dialing Nate's cell phone number when Blair quickly takes Chuck's phone out of his grasp.

"Bass, do you even hear what you're saying. What motive could Rhyze possibly have for telling anyone about what happened with Charlie?" Chuck scoffs.

"It's obvious that you recently discovering your estranged daughter has obviously left a deep effect on your once manipulative, suspicious mind" Chuck deadpans, reaching for his phone when Blair steps away, eyebrows narrowing.

"I hope that's a compliment in disguise and not a backhanded insult," she hisses.

"Blair, don't be stupid," he says simply.

"What exactly did you mean by that, Chuck?" retorts Blair, her stance on the entire dilemma not at all faltering.

"I… I am just saying that with the appearance of your long, lost daughter, you've become a lot more… Trusting than you usually are," admits the bass patriarch, only to hear the Waldorf's indignant gasp.

"Are you calling me a weak, maternal, overly-trusting woman whose intellectual mind has deteriorated due to her daughter's presence, hmm?"

"If it bitches and moans like a mom and waddles like a mom, it's a mom," replies Chuck nonchalantly.

"There's nothing wrong with being a _mother_, Basshole," snaps Blair.

"There is when being a mother is affecting your ability to see what's right in front of you. Rhyze obviously has something to do with Charlie being upset!"

"Rhyze has _nothing_ to do with Charlie being upset, Bass! I would know if Rhyze had anything to do with this, okay?" she retorts angrily.

"Oh really, and how would you know?"

"Because I would, Bass. I know everything" Blair explains.

"Okay then, why's Charlie so upset, hmm? Miss I-know-everything?"

"Can you two please just _shut up_!" both dark-haired Upper East Side legacies' words are interrupted by the frustrated brunette standing atop the staircase, a almost frightening Waldorf-Bass smirk radiating from her beautiful face. As if on cue, the elevator doors to the Waldorf penthouse open to reveal the face of the handsome young Rhyze Archibald. At first, Blair had assumed that it was actually the younger Archibald son, Rhyze, entering her abode. It is only until she realized that Rhyze has developed a habit of coming over that she realizes it's Rhyze. That and the dark coat, slightly snobbish façade and gelled back hair tipped her off.

"Did I walk into something?" Rhyze inquires, eyebrows raised in curiosity

"No, come on up, Rhyze" answers Charlie simply, eyes widening in surprise as her gaze lands on an entire box of expensive muffins and cupcakes in Rhyze's hands.

"You got me cupcakes?" the once aggravated brunette says, her tone much softer than it was a mere ten seconds ago. Rhyze looks down at the food then back up at the angelic beauty looking down at him before raising his gaze. He nods, careful not to crack an actual smile in front of Blair and Chuck. Then Rhyze, being the perfectly-bred Upper East Side man, turns to both Blair and Chuck.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Miss Waldorf. I would have called first had I not assumed Charlie had already informed you of my visiting," apologizes Rhyze charmingly, his perfectly measured Archibald grin even making Blair smile in fondness.

"Rhyze, you don't have to apologize. _You're always welcome here_" consoles Blair, pointedly emphasizing the last sentence, much to Chuck's annoyance. Chuck scowls, catching Rhyze's attention.

"Mister Bass, how have you been?" asks Rhyze politely, holding out his hand for a handshake. When Chuck simply glares at the hand, Rhyze slowly sets it down but remains composed.

"I hope you've been well," Rhyze attempts to converse well again. Charlie walks up behind him, walking all the way back down from the marble staircase and ruining her dramatic exit, in order to save him from Chuck's wrath.

"We'll be upstairs," Charlie interrupts, placing her bony hand on Rhyze's arm gently.

"I'd prefer it if you both remain down here," Chuck snaps, causing Blair's eyes to widen in disbelief. Both Rhyze and Charlie are stunned by this. For weeks, Blair had allowed both teenagers to sleep in the same bed for an entire night with the doors closed. Now they couldn't even go upstairs together?

"W-why?" says Charlie.

"It's not very appropriate, Charlie" reasons Chuck.

"Neither are thongs hanging from lamps in your apartment of sluts sleeping over every night, but you still do it," argues the young Waldorf-Bass, a mixture of her pent up anger and annoyance for her father causing the abrupt outburst.

"Charlie, maybe your father has a point-" tries to reason Rhyze, only for Charlie to scoff.

"No, he doesn't," hisses the brunette angrily.

"Charlie," says Chuck, his patience wearing thin.

"It's true,"

"I should just go," Rhyze pipes in. Immediately, Charlie's attention is caught as she takes Rhyze's hand, her once angry self now turning into pure, unadulterated vulnerability. He turns to her, shaken by Charlie's heartbreaking appearance.

"P-please," Charlie begins softly, shutting her eyes. "Please d-don't leave… I need you to stay here," Rhyze nods, understanding.

Chuck's gaze drops to the ground, a mixture of shame and embarrassment running through his mind. How could he have done this? How could he have taken away his daughter's only comfort since her accident? He bites his lip, trying to mask his absolute distaste for himself.

"You two go right up," he tells the two young teenagers. They both nod, making their way upstairs. Once they were out of sight, Chuck sighs.

"I'm a dick," he says.

"I agree," responds Blair, turning away from Chuck.

XoXo

**Hey guys, so I know this took forever for me to put up, but I had serious trouble figuring out how to execute the storyline I had planned. I tried to make it pretty good. Not too much Rhyze/Charlie but a lot of Chuck/Blair fights and a Kyle/Charlie scene :D **


	18. Someday

"He's stupid," slurs Rhyze Archibald as he and Charlie sat across the flat screen TV occupying the beige wall of the Waldorf's family room. Rhyze's blond head rests of Charlie's lap upon Charlie's insistence, seeing as how the eldest Archibald twin has a headache. Charlie lowers the volume of the television, which is currently playing The Social Network. She shakes her head, leaning forward to reach the bottle of red wine they are both sharing. Incidentally, Rhyze's face turns a deep shade of red as he feels their closeness.

"He's not stupid," Charlie attempts to defend Kyle. She and Rhyze are both alone in the Waldorf penthouse, with Blair attending a gala for famous New York City talk show hosts and Chuck simply too ashamed of his previous argument with both brunettes. She looks down as she feels his heated gaze on her.

"He's probably ugly then," says the blond nonchalantly. Immediately, Charlie raises her knee to hit the back of Rhyze's head. This causes him to yelp in pain, sitting up and giving Charlie a dark glare.

"I have a headache, you bitch!" he snarls, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, get over it," she shrugs his complaints off, even raising her hand and doing in a swatting motion to prove her point. Charlie then turns to him, her eyes softening for a bit. "Sorry," she apologizes, though not completely convinced that she should be. Rhyze nods, his guard quickly hardening. Immediately, Charlie notices this and sighs.

"You're more messed up than I am," Charlie observes.

"I'm not," he grumbles. Charlie notes that with his stubborn expression and tone that he resembles a five-year-old child not given the privilege to watch TV before doing their homework.

"Aw, poor baby's upset," coed Charlie, grinning ear-to-ear as she watches Rhyze simply roll his eyes in annoyance.

"Shut up, Charlie" he once again tries to push her away. Charlie simply smirks.

"Has anyone told you that you're way too serious?" she inquires, both eyebrows raised. He looks over at her, trying his best to hold back the urge to suffocate the petite brunette for interrogating him. Rhyze knows that him and Charlie are friends. And, though he fails to admit it, he feels himself slowly… Changing, as a person. Suddenly he laughs more (though it can be proven opposite by the current scenario), smiles more and even talks more.

The blond haired Archibald knows that he owes his inevitable change to Charlie. And while he is not one hundred percent happy about his transition from heartless but perfect Archibald to an actual human being, he has to admit that the change is doing him much better. Never has he felt this light, this open. For the first time, he feels like he doesn't have to try so hard to seem so cold and yet charming, he feels like he can be himself.

Whoever 'himself' is.

"Has anyone ever told you you're too uptight?" he can't help but say in response. Charlie scoffs.

"Me? Uptight? Have you _met_ yourself? You're about as fun as white paint drying!"

"Then why do you hang out with me so much?" he retorts, looking at Charlie with this almost seductive yet effortless look. Charlie gulps, feeling her heart beat racing. She's always known that Rhyze is handsome… _Okay, he's a drop dead gorgeous sex tornado in Armani…_ She admits. But with all the tears and snuggling and comforting, she never paid too much attention, though it is hard to ignore. Now suddenly, after returning to Constance and doing normal things like glare at Lorraine Humphrey and mispronouncing Italian words, she felt somewhat normal again.

_I suppose I do have Rhyze to thank for that. Lately, he's stopped catering to all my issues. Not in a bad way, but I can feel him try and slowly lure me into normalcy by not trying to 'baby' me anymore…_ With all of her thoughts, she doesn't even notice Rhyze repeating her name over and over again.

"Charlie!" he says loudly, snapping his fingers in front of her Emerald eyes to catch her attention. Finally, Charlie snaps out of her stupor. She growls, reaching for the large pillow thrown carelessly on the ground and hits Rhyze's head.

"What was that for?" she merely shrugs, standing up and taking the bottle of red wine.

"What are you doing?" he asks. She turns to him, a mirthful grin on her elegant face.

"I'm putting this away," she tells him, walking out of the Waldorf family room and towards the kitchen. She tries to catch her breathe without having Rhyze's burning gaze on her, but her plan fails as he follows her in suit.

"What for?"

"We're going out," Charlie tells him firmly, entering the kitchen and placing the half-finished bottle in the large fridge. He fusses his eyebrows together, bewildered.

"What's so confusing? Don't tell me you actually _enjoy_ spending every single night watching movies, getting drunk and _snuggling_," she teases him, a smug smirk plastered on her face. Immediately, Rhyze feels his cheeks redden in embarrassment. He covers up for his palpable humiliation by rolling his eyes.

"Cocky bitch," he points out. Charlie can't help but be caught off guard. He didn't deny or confirm her accusation.

"Where do you want to go?"

XoXo

"I can't _believe_ you took me here," Rhyze repeats for the 100th time that night, leaning his head back as he shuts his eyes. Both he and Charlie sat in a small bar outside of Manhattan, more specifically in the Bronx, sharing a platter of cheap nachos and chocolate milkshakes.

"Stop being such a preppy snob," Charlie replies, munching on the nachos. She notes that Rhyze is sitting rather stiffly, his back straight and not leaning back on the leather seats.

"I can't _believe _you took me here!" he exasperates, scowling at his poor surroundings. "You do realize you're one of _us _now, right? We could have gone to the Waverly for drinks, or Serendipity for Ice Cream or even _Time Square_ for burgers!" he reminds her, shuddering at the thought of actually eating cheese burgers in Time Square, where middle class tourists and homeless people lingered.

"You're such a snob! Just because you can go to those places doesn't mean you should. Besides, I hate going to all those stuffy, overly extravagant, places where the fish isn't cooked and they don't even put prices beside the meals," Charlie tells him, leaning over to take a sip of the milkshake.

"It's better than slumming it in some trashy bar," he snaps. Charlie sighs, slamming her hand on the table in annoyance.

"I practically _grew up_ in 'trashy bars' like these," she says, her voice about as sharp as nails. Rhyze, in turn, can't help but be annoyed by Charlie acting like some kind of victim simply because he pointed out how disgusting and mediocre the bar is.

"Well I _grew up _in all those 'stuffy, overly extravagant, places'" he retorts with an equal amount of venom.

"Yeah and everyone looks up to you for it. But when I tell people I go to places like these, they just scoff and treat me like dirt,"

"And you're calling me a snob? Do you actually _think _that every rich person is some kind of spoiled robot? If you do, then that makes you a bigger snob that me!"

"Well you do prove the stereotype right," she murmurs.

"So do you," Rhyze replies fearlessly. Charlie scoffs.

"Are you calling me trash?"

"Are you calling me a spoiled robot?"

"If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, it's a fucking duck!" Charlie says, crossing her arms.

"Are you guys all good here?" asks the bar owner, his eyebrows raised as he stares at the young couple with concern.

"Yes," they both say at the same time.

"Okay," he surrenders. As he is about to leave, he stops when he hears what Charlie says next.

"If you hate it here so much then let's leave then," she hisses, reaching for money from her purse. Before she could even open her bag, Rhyze already laid out forty dollars on the table, beckoning the bar owner to take the money.

"Wha-" Charlie begins to ask, when she is interrupted by Rhyze.

"You're not actually paying for this yourself, Charlie," he tells her simply. He gestures for the tattooed bar owner to take the cash when Charlie shakes her head to him in response.

"I can pay for it myself, Rhyze," she snaps.

"I'm the man here, I'm paying. Do you actually think I'll let a girl pay for the bill? As long as you're out with me, I pay for everything," Charlie, unable to help herself, kicks his leg at the bottom of the table. He groans.

"Keep the change," he tells the bar owner.

"Your bill is only twelve dollars and twenty five cents," the bar owner reminds the blond.

"It's a tip then," replies Rhyze nonchalantly.

"Why, thank you sir," he says gratefully, only for Charlie to glare at him further.

"Are you really that big of a spoiled brat that you'll just throw away twenty eight dollars? Do you even realize how stuck up you're being?" Charlie snaps, glaring daggers in Rhyze now.

The bar owner laughs, shaking his head.

"I don't mind if that's what you're thinking," he tells Charlie.

"That's not the point. The point is the principle of the whole thing!"

"Charlie, I gave him a tip, there's nothing wrong with that!" Rhyze yells in response.

"Well there's something wrong with it when it's meant to show off how much money you can blow rather than actual generosity!" exasperates Charlie in response. By now, the entire bar, including those playing pool, are watching the two young teenagers in amusement.

"I'll bring you back some change," the bar owner tells Rhyze quietly, about to walk away when Rhyze stops him.

"No, seriously, keep it," insists Rhyze.

"Son, your girlfriend is losing her mind, I'd rather miss out on twenty eight dollars worth of tips than have to listen to you two fight any longer," the tall bar owner tells him.

"I'm not his girlfriend," Charlie says furiously.

"Could have fooled me," the owner says, walking away.

"You're a dick," she snaps, standing up and walking out of the booth. Before she can reach for the door handles, a drunken man stops her.

"Now where's a pretty thing like you going?" he slurs, slinging his arm around her. Charlie shoves him off, only for him to continue hassling her.

"Come on, don't play hard to get now," he continues.

"Get _off _of me," she snaps, elbowing his guts.

"Stupid bitch," the guy says angrily, taking her by the cheeks and pressing a kiss onto her lips. Before it could go any further, Charlie takes the gun out of her purse and pulls away, pointing it at him.

"Woah," the drunken man says in panic, scrambling away.

"Get back here you son of a bitch," Rhyze, who quickly came to Charlie's aid, snaps. He takes him by the collar and punches his hard. This causes him to fall to the ground. Immediately, a full fledged fight erupted, causing the entire bar to cheer and watch in deep interest.

"ENOUGH!" yells the bar owner, separating the two.

"You two," he points to Charlie and Rhyze. "Get out of my bar!"

"The guy tried to fucking molest her-" Rhyze reasons angrily, blood dripping from his lip.

"Whose fault is that? You two might have gotten away with your fake IDs and hundred dollar tips back in Manhattan, but you can't fool us here. The reason why we don't let minors in here in the first place is because of the sleazes who prey on innocent, underage chics! Get out before I call the cops," says the bar owner, pointing to the door and glaring at the two until they left.

XoXo

"Charlie!" calls Rhyze from the opposite side of the road. He runs through the road, nearly getting hit by a yellow cab on the way. He takes her by the arm and attempts to stop the angry brunette from storming away.

"What?" asks the brunette angrily, her green eyes filled with annoyance and anger.

"Can you just calm down?"

"Calm down? After what you pulled in there? If you think that you can treat me like trash, mock my heritage and make a fool out of me, you're mistaken! I-I don't care if you did save my life, Rhyze. I'm not weak little _Charlotte Bass_ anymore. I don't care if its some random drunk or my friend, what happened to me that night in the alley is _never going to happen again_," warns Charlie, her voice filled with something Rhyze had never heard before; passion and indignation.

"Okay," he agrees.

"Okay? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" inquires Charlie, eyebrows raised.

"I'm… I'm sorry," he admits, staring down at his shoes, mortified. Charlie pointedly avoids his gaze, looking everywhere else but him. Finally the brunette caves and nods, confirming his forgiveness.

"Where do you want to go?" asks Charlie, trying to break off the awkwardness.

XoXo

Both tall, teenage figures stood in the middle of the pedestrian lane of the Brooklyn bridge. It was Rhyze's idea from the start. After his and Charlie's disastrous argument about their two different lifestyles, he decided that the best way to truly come to a truce is for both of them to stand in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge, a compromise on both parts.

"I love New York," muses Charlie, inhaling the scent and feel of her New York. She looks over at Rhyze, green eyes sparkling in mischief.

"I remember when I was younger. Kyle and I snuck into an elevator at the Empire State Building and we spent the whole day just staring at the view of the New York skyline," continues Charlie, nostalgia apparent from her calm voice.

"We still… We used to do it all the time, even when we already had enough money to pay for tickets," Rhyze nods thoughtfully.

"I lied earlier… I do know who Kyle is," Charlie looks over at him, baffled.

"Well… I've never talked to him before but I've certainly heard enough from Riley," Rhyze says. "You two seem close," he notes, biting back the jealousy running through his veins. If he and Charlie were so close, where was he when Charlie was going through her post-traumatic stress?

"Yeah," replies Charlie.

"Are you two," begins Rhyze, only to pause. "Together?" he asks, turning towards Charlie.

"No… We're not,"

"Why not?" Rhyze asks, closing in on the gorgeous Waldorf-Bass.

"H-He and I are friends, and while I once thought we would be more, I realized today that… All we can ever be is friends," responds Charlie, responding to Rhyze closeness by stepping closer to him.

"What about Riley?" Rhyze says in a bare whisper, unaware of Charlie's buckling knees. His deep blue-green eyes burned holes in Charlie's body. She can feel her heart pounding so quickly in her chest that she feels like she's about to explode. She gulps, remaining calm.

"What about him?" asks Charlie, trying to keep her voice calm and unmoving.

"He's in love with you, you know that," Rhyze says simply, as if their faces were not inches apart, as if he couldn't feel Charlie's heart beating from the closeness of their chests', and most of all, as if he did not already know the answer. Charlie is torn between leaning in and kissing him and smacking him hard for acting so emotionless.

"So?" Charlie says,

"So it would make sense to be with him," Rhyze says, his voice not showing a hint of emotion.

"It would," she agrees, this time putting Rhyze on his toes.

"Then why don't you?" he challenges, taking away Charlie's power over him as quickly as it came.

"I don't want him," Charlie says reassuringly. She can feel his gaze on her lips. She can feel his arms snake around her dainty waist with the utmost gentleness and heat. Unlike her previous kiss with Kyle, one that was forced and desperate, she knows that this kiss will be different. This kiss, Charlie knew for sure, would confirm the obvious.

They're falling in love.

As he leans in, she feels her heart quickening its pace. Charlie knows this is going to happen. It just is. But then she thinks about what happened this morning. Kyle, her best friend, laid everything out on the line for her, offered to wait for her. Now here is Rhyze, the guy who held her in his arms every night since then, the guy who understood her more than anyone else, and most of all, the guy she can actually imagine being with. One would think that this is her opportunity to have him as hers.

_I'm not ready..._ She realizes. And from the looks Rhyze is currently giving her, he's realizing that too. He presses his lips on her forehead before slowly unclasping her from his grasp.

Charlie wants to apologize for leading him on, she really does. But she saw the way he looked at her, felt the way he held her, and she knew that if he really loved her. If he _really _wanted to be with _her_, the real Charlie, not the broken Charlie she currently is, that he'll understand.

They don't talk for a while, neither one seeing the point in doing so. The brunette feels the urge to talk about it, to talk about what could have happened a mere minutes ago. But she knows Rhyze Archibald, that's one of the perks of feeling something for him, and she knows that he doesn't want to. They're both caught in an awkward silence again, neither unsure of what to say.

"I'll take you back," he informs her, his voice once again guarded and cold. Just like it was when she first met him. She nods thoughtfully, but not before taking his hand and making him turn to her. She tries to figure out what to say, how to explain to him why they can't happen, at least not yet. He nods his head, using his hand to run through her chestnut ringlets. Without having to, he tells her he knows what's going through her mind. And that he understands.

"Someday," is all he says before he gently takes her hand and leads her to the Manhattan side of the bridge.

_Someday_

XoXo

**Author's Note: So I know I haven't updated a lot in awhile, so I decided to put up this chapter. This is all about Rhyze/Charlie and their relationship so there's no CB but I really wanted to focus on getting the Rhyze/Charlie plot line moving. It's a short chapter compared to the others but I wanted an entire chapter dedicated to these two because they're the epitome of love, plain and simple. REVIEW! Liking Rhyze/Charlie? Hating them?**


	19. A Dress, A Scheme and A Realization

"Stop looking me like that, S" Blair Waldorf tells her blond bombshell of a best friend, Serena VanDerWoodsen-Archibald, as they run their hands through multiple dresses on the rack at Chanel. Serena, standing behind Blair with her arms crossed, raises an eyebrow.

"I will once you start talking," Serena says calmly, eyeing her best friend. Throughout the entire afternoon, Serena and Blair walked around midtown in hopes of some retail therapy. What the Archibald matriarch expected to be a fun afternoon with her childhood best friend turned out to be an afternoon of prying words out of Blair's mouth.

"I am talking," Blair reasons, keeping her gaze away from Serena's. If Serena were to get her to look her in the eye, Blair knows she'll tell Serena about Chuck. It's not that she didn't want Serena to know about her drunken sex with Chuck Bass… Okay, so maybe she didn't want Serena to know, but it's not like she _has_ to know. No harm would come in Serena not knowing, right? _Right_, she decides firmly.

"About hemlines and Tyra Banks," snaps Serena irritably, plopping herself down on the cream colored couches and crossing her legs in an effort to show her annoyance over Blair's flippant ways.

"Well we can't all have dazzling stories about having lunch with Natalie Portman or sharing make up tips with Julia Roberts," Blair retorts, lifting up a neon yellow silk, Grecian dress from the racks.

"Do you think Charlie would like this?" inquires Blair, raising the hanger to Serena's view. Serena wrinkles her nose.

"Would anyone?" The brunette stops, looking back at the dress.

"Well, it has some character," says Blair hesitantly.

"B," Serena says, looking at the dress with distaste.

"You're right," the brunette Waldorf confirms, dropping the expensive dress on the ground as if it was a dirty rag instead of a Limited Edition Chanel dress.

"Blair," hisses Serena. "Pick that up," she tells her best friend.

"I'm Blair Waldorf, I haven't picked anything up from the ground since I was twenty seven," Blair reminds her best friend. She turns her attention to the purses, an excuse to avoid her friend's questioning stare.

"What are you hiding?" Serena finally catches on. It all makes sense now, the high-pitches voice, the speed-talking and even the way she walks are clear indicators of Blair Waldorf with a secret. The famous talk show host shrugs nonchalantly, a bewildered expression painted on her face.

"Have you been smoking Salvia at Amy Winehouse's apartment again?" jokes Blair, only for the blond to hurl a pillow at Blair. Luckily, Blair dodges the attack, accidentally bumping into a tall figure.

"I'm sorry, madam," comes a lush French accent. Blair's doe eyes look up from her peep-toe Louis Vouitton's to the stranger, caught off guard by his dashing good looks. He stood at about six feet, though he looked much taller to Blair. He had straight _light_ brown hair that was sleeked back elegantly to expose his clean-shaved, handsome, face. The stranger's eyes sparkled as he catches sight of the subtle beauty that is Blair Waldorf.

"That's alright," mutters Blair, unable to navigate her eyes away from the stranger's pink, kissable lips that seemed to be seducing her at the very moment.

"And they say American women are the hardest to please," he jokingly muses.

"They are," Blair retorts, holding out her petite hand.

"I'm Blair Waldorf," she says formally, like she has ever since she was five-years-old. He grins, taking her hand and turning it face down. He then proceeds to kiss the back of her hand, his gaze transfixed on Blair's doe eyes the whole time.

"Tyler Montgomery," he says, his voice warm and welcoming. Blair can't help but compare it to Chuck's cold and distant tone of voice. She shakes Chuck out of her thoughts.

"Pleasure to meet you,"

"All mine," he pauses, gulping.

"I'm sure," muses the famous talk show host, a tiny smile appearing on her face.

"What brings you to Chanel? Shopping for your wife?" inquires Blair casually, tossing her chestnut brown curls to the back of her bony shoulders. Tyler's hazel eyes sparkle as he chuckles.

"More like my daughter playing on my guilt by forcing me to buy her some new dresses," explains Tyler, his seductive French accent making Blair's knees shaky.

"Daughter?"

"Monsieur Montgomery," interrupts a man dressed head-to-toe in black.

"Madame Ashley is waiting for you in your limo," continues Tyler Montgomery's apparent driver. He turns back to Blair, smiling.

"I have to go," he tells Blair charmingly. Tyler then does the unexpected. He takes an imperial blue silk dress off the rack and reaches for a Mont Blanc pen in his pocket. He reaches for the price tag and scribbles his name and number on the tag. Before the saleswoman, a 20-something blond beauty with freckles running down her unevenly toned arms, could protest, he simply creates a signature motion. The saleswoman, baffled, scoffs and begins to voice her annoyance, when the manager grabs her by the arm and send Tyler an apologetic smile.

"W-what was that?" Blair stutters, confused. Tyler simply hands her the decadent dress and grins.

"My number is on the tag, Blair. Call me if you wish to find out," Tyler said flirtatiously, walking backwards before turning his back fully and walking out of the shop.

XoXo

"You bought me a dress? What for?" asks Charlie Waldorf-Bass as she and Rhyze Archibald walk into the Waldorf penthouse, where both Serena and Blair lounged. Rhyze smiles politely to his mother, his defenses quickly coming into play. Rhyze found the Waldorf penthouse to be the perfect place to let his guard down. Possibly because there was hardly anyone around, aside from Dorota, but mostly because of Charlie. Unfortunately, with Blair and Serena's presence, Rhyze can't help but feel a bit cold again.

Serena smiles back kindly, only to be caught back by the realization that Rhyze really did spend all of his time with Charlie. She knew that the two were inseparable. Considering what both had gone through together, how could they not be? But Serena always assumed that Rhyze would quickly get tired of the complication and emotional turmoil that accompanied Charlie. Instead, he seemed to be welcoming it with open arms.

A part of Serena, the self-righteous and fair one, felt quite ashamed of Rhyze. Sure, he's doing the noble thing by accompanying Charlie through her post-attack emotions. But he's doing it at the expense of his brother's own emotions. Even if Serena did believe that Riley's obsession with Charlie is completely based on infatuation, even if she did think that Riley could never love Charlie like Rhyze could, she felt the need to stay fair amongst her kids. And the truth of the matter is that Rhyze is aware of Riley's feeling, and should respect that.

Yet the other part of Serena, the part secretly longing for Rhyze to become a better man, could not be more pleased with him _and _Charlie. For a long time, Rhyze kept his emotions and thoughts to himself. Most likely because, unlike the passionate Riley Archibald, he is not one to let his emotions out. But with Charlie around, more often, the blond can see her son slowly transforming into a better person.

"Oh, it was a gift," Blair attempts to shrug it off nonchalantly, but failing as the corner of her lips tug upwards. The Waldorf turns her head, looking away from the two young prep school students.

"From who?" pries Charlie, unable to hide her skepticism

"Some advertisers,"

"Why would advertisers get you a dress?"

"Rhyze, Charlie, how was school?" interrupts Serena, beaming at the two young teenagers with her perfect grin. Rhyze and Charlie glance towards each other before shrugging.

"Boring as usual," Charlie replies.

"This dress isn't even your size," Charlie continues, completely unaware of her mother's stomach curling with every word as she inspects the blue velvet dress. "Why would they get you something that wouldn't even fit you?"

Serena purses her lips, unable to feel the tension in Blair's shoulders. She did not know what is worse; Charlie pestering Blair _or_ Charlie commenting on Blair's weight. Either way, Blair's temper rose rapidly.

"Simply put, it's none of your goddamn business, Charlie!" snaps Blair, dropping her copy of the New York post on the marble ground. The younger brunette sighs, rolling her eyes at her biological mother.

"Geez, you're a really big, fucking drag aren't you?" comments the foster child, making both Rhyze and Serena cringe simultaneously at Charlie's crude comment. At an instant, Blair rose to her feet, making her way to Charlie.

"Charlie, I do _not_ have to explain every little detail of that dress' source to you. Now, you and Rhyze will leave Serena and I, end of discussion," hisses Blair forcefully. Needless to say, both Rhyze and Serena had never felt more awkward. It isn't because Blair is angry, they've seen her angry before. It is because she is trying to hold back the equally stubborn and irritable Charlie Waldorf-Bass. And what Blair and Charlie both have to learn is that neither is quite as easy to break as the other.

"Wow," Charlie says mockingly, the sarcasm clearly palpable in her voice. "And here I thought you didn't have any maternal instincts! Seems you've proven me wrong. You've got the whole self-centered bitch thing down to a 'B', Blair" retorts the petite figure.

"I will not be spoken to like that. I am your mother," Charlie scoffs.

"Since when?" Instantly, Blair felt like she had been slapped in the face. Charlie's cold, venomous words hit her hard.

"Since now," confirms Blair, after regaining her composure.

"Right, because you know _everything_ about being a mom, right? You know how to burp a baby and teach me how to tie my shoelaces and give me the _talk_, right?" When Blair remains silent, Charlie just shakes her head.

"That's what I thought," she muses, stepping away from Blair.

"Rhyze and I are leaving," declares Charlie. Charlie takes Rhyze by the hand and slowly leads him to the elevator, when Blair's voice interrupts the two.

"Charlie, you're grounded,"

"Excuse me?" Charlie turns her heel, eyebrows raised.

"You're grounded. You think I don't know how to be a mom? Fine, I'll learn. And I'll start my maternal education with disciplinary actions. Go up to your room and stay there," says Blair triumphantly, crossing her arms and smirking in absolute power. Charlie drops her backpack on the ground and groans.

"You know, you'd think that since it's the first time I've been out in awhile since my accident, you'd cut me some slack" Charlie reminds Blair. She reminds her mother of her trauma, of what she went through. She had hopes that by doing so, Blair would cave and feel bad.

"Too bad," Blair says, her emotions intact. "Up to your room. Make sure to take the dress and toss out the tags, I won't be needing them anymore,"

XoXo

"Nathaniel, I could hear your pseudo intellectual voice from down the hall," jokes Chuck Bass, clad in his suit as he enters Nate's office building located at the 27th floor of the building. Nate turned his leather seat away from the window overlooking the streets of Manhattan to his childhood best friend. Nate curtly nods at his employees before he sent them scattering, leaving a bemused Chuck standing at the doorway.

"And I could smell Salvia and second-hand smoke from the elevator," retorts Nate wittily, gesturing to the seats right across from him.

"You know, you'd think that since you're a senator now, you'd be much more… _Uptight_ when it comes to illicit drugs. But then again, considering your family history…" Chuck trails off. The blond Archibald interrupts him.

"Chuck, don't," snaps Nate, running his hands through his golden locks.

"What's got you torn up?"

"The Riley Archibald sex scandal," Nate informs his best friend, forcing Chuck to look up from the glass of scotch he was pouring for Nate and himself.

"I didn't know there was such a thing," Chuck admits. "And when it comes to sex scandals, I'm usually the first to know," says the Bass patriarch.

"It gets worse," Nate points out.

"How?"

"He was sleeping with his thirty-year-old student teacher," Chuck held back a chuckle, earning himself a strict glare from Nate in absolute stress and annoyance.

"Can't imagine what kind of trouble that's causing Riley,"

"Who cares about Riley? Whatever scandal or trouble it's causing him is none of my concern. He brought it on himself. What is truly bothering me is the fact that it's affecting my image to the people," Nate snaps.

"It can't be that bad," Chuck tries to console Nate.

"It's worse, I'm downplaying it so I don't try and kill my own son!" Nate practically yelled.

"Riley has always been troubled. Maybe if you just tried and rehabilitate his image this entire scandal will go away,"

"Scandals don't go away, Chuck. The entire Upper East Side is evidence of that," Nate reminds Chuck, downing the drink in one gulp.

"But scandals can be downplayed by either a, another scandal, or b, a good deed," sermons Chuck.

"Well what kind of good deed could possibly redeem Riley? He's been caught smoking marijuana, driving while intoxicated in the Hamptons _and_, to top it off, sleeping with his thirty-year-old student teacher. And guess what, she was an adult porn star as a kid!" Chuck now bursts out laughing, unable to hold it back.

"CHUCK!" snaps Nate

"I'm sorry, it's just way too hilarious. And don't get all self-righteous with me, Archibald. May I remind you or your indiscretions with a certain Lady Catherine?"

"That was different, Chuck. I was child back then," Nate explains.

"So is Riley," Nate covers his face with the palms of his hand.

"Furthermore, a picture of Reese dumping a milkshake on Xavier Coates' head! Now the mayor is up my ass for embarrassing his beloved son!" Nate exasperates

"So I'm guessing the only one who hasn't disappointed yet is Rhyze?" Chuck says pitifully.

"Oh no, he has,"

"How so?"

"You're going to hate me for saying it,"

"I've said horrible things about you, Serena and all three of your children, I'm not one to judge," the Bass entrepreneur tells him.

"He's been spending too much time with Charlie," this makes Chuck's heart stop momentarily, averting this dark eyes to his best friend's.

"What's wrong with Charlie?"

"Nothing,"

"Then why would Rhyze and Charlie spending time together reflect poorly on _your_ image?" challenges Chuck, his voice far from understanding.

"Soon, everyone is going to find out about Charlie's little attack,"

"And they'll also find out that your son saved her life, surely that will keep your party afloat," mentions Chuck.

"Not when I pulled some strings and got the rapist moved to solitary confinement and double his sentence," Nate reveals to Chuck. "I-I just… I thought it was smart at the time. C-Charlie, she's your daughter, and he could have really hurt her and R-Rhyze and I just…" Nate rambles on guiltily.

"I regret using my position to my own advantage, Chuck, I really do," Nate tells him. Chuck shakes his head, sighing. How is it that one visit to his best friend's office could result to headaches for _both_ of them?

"What do you plan on doing?"

"I can't let anyone find out that Rhyze saved Charile's life in that alley, Chuck," explains Nate.

"But if no one knows, how on earth am I going to keep my campaign going? It's on thin ice, Chuck!"

Chuck looks up at Nate, a plan coming to mind.

"I have an idea,"

XoXo

**The next day…**

"CHARLIE!" yells Riley, practically running down the sidewalk as he chased the retreating brunette.

"Riley," acknowledges Charlie, eyebrows raised. For weeks, she hasn't come across Riley. _Maybe Its because you're spending all your time with his twin brother…_ taunts the voice in Charlie's head. She smiles at Riley, unknowingly making Riley's knees buckle at the very sight of her after weeks of seclusion.

"I haven't seen you in awhile," he comments. "Come have lunch with us. Penn and Derek have been asking for you," Riley practically tells her, gesturing to the Saint Judes brotherhood sitting atop the steps of the Met. They consist of Penn Sparks, bastard son of Georgina Sparks, Derrek Humphrey, Anton Wales and the Archibald twins.

Charlie glances up the steps, her cheeks unknowingly turning crimson at the sight of Rhyze winking at her when Riley's head faced him. Riley sees the blush on Charlie's face and fights the urge to plant a kiss on the brunette's lips right then and there.

"Sure," the brunette agrees, walking up with Riley. As she walks up the steps, she sees Brooke Baizen send her a nod of acknowledgement, ignoring the annoyed glare Lorraine Humphrey was sending her. The redhead then raises her phone to remind Charlie to text her. Charlie smiles before coming face to face with the elite group of Saint Judes boys.

"Charlotte Waldorf-Bass," drawls Derrek, trying to impersonate one of the old cougars on the Upper East Side. "I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure of seeing you in _decades_," he continues. Charlie giggles, dropping her messenger bag beside Anton, who smiles up at her kindly. She then proceeds to take a seat beside Rhyze, who tries to ignore the urge to wrap his arm around her.

Sure, they agreed to just be friends for the time being. But Charlie still felt her heart skip a beat when he stares at her with those somewhat haunting but secretly kind eyes. She still feels herself blush at his touch. And worst of all, she still wishes to feel his lips on hers.

And she could tell from the way the corner of his lips quirked up, he did too.

Out of nowhere, Riley sloppily takes a seat beside Charlie, happily wrapping his arm around her. She turns to him, slightly confused but mostly annoyed. She catches Derrek and Penn exchange a look before returning to their sloppy joes.

"Hey," he says quietly, smiling at her as he whispers into her ear. "I really missed you," he continues on. She looks at him. It's undeniable that he's genuinely a good guy. But it's also undeniable that he's _not_ the one she wants to be with.

"Yeah," is all she says, flinching under his touch.

"You still owe me a date," the younger Archibald twin mentions casually.

"Really?" mutters Charlie, now fidgeting with his heavy arm around her bony shoulder.

"Really," he confirms, brushing aside a stray hair. She just grumbles, shoving his arm off and reaching for her backpack behind him for her lunch. She searches her backpack before dropping it.

"Forgot your lunch, Bass?" inquires Rhyze casually, raising both eyebrows at her. She turns to him, her cheeks reddening.

"Yeah," without hesitation, he hands reaches into his own black messenger bag and hands her his lunch.

"You don't have to-" she begins but he simply shrugs her off.

"I don't even like it," he tells her.

"Obviously you don't like it, you hate Prosciutto and Portobello sandwiches from Carve," Riley reminds him, eyebrows raises. His brother loathes mushrooms for some odd reason, as well as whole wheat bread. But for some reason, he had it for lunch.

"I just have it for some reason, so have it," urges Rhyze, pushing back his blond hair away from his eyes. They stare at each other, knowing fully well that Rhyze didn't "just have it". They were both supposed to go out to Carve for sandwiches upon Charlie pestering him about it. She was ranting on and on about how their Prosciutto and Portobello sandwiches were to die for. When Charlie got grounded, they had to cancel their plans.

"Thanks, Rhyze" replies Charlie, taking her hand and messing up his perfectly styled hair. All four guys wait for Rhyze to explode into a loud fit. The only thing Rhyze hates more is having his hair messed up. Not a single person, not Riley or Reese, ever got away with it.

But surprisingly, Rhyze only chuckles before taking a sip of his coffee. All four guys sat there, surprise written all over their faces.

"What. The Hell." Penn says, surprised.

"What?" snaps Rhyze, irritated by their shocked expressions. So what if he let Charlie get away with messing up his hair? It wasn't a big deal.

"You_ never_ let _anyone_ mess up your hair!" says Anton slowly.

"The last time I attempted to ruin your _perfectly styled hair_, you punched me, locked me in the broom closet and when _Reese_ finally let me out, you stuck ice cubes down my shirt when I was asleep!" reminds Riley.

"She's a girl,"

"When _Reese_ did it, you stole one shoe out of every pair she owns in grandfather's fire place and threw them all in the fountain!"

"Oh shut up, Riley," hisses Rhyze.

"Charlie, back me up on this!" pleads Riley jokingly.

"He has a point, it's kind of annoying how you all think him not _killing_ me for messing up his hair is so surprising," Charlie reminds him. Instead of Riley taking it up further, he just laughs it off and jumps into a conversation about his mother's assistant's thong.

Unfortunately, the rest of the boy quickly realized that Riley failed to. Which is that his twin brother is just as smitten with Charlie as he is.

And they all know how this story plays out…

**Author's Note: Hopefully you guys like this chapter, there's a lot more Blair and Chuck, though with different people. Any guesses as to what Nate and Chuck's 'plan' is? I'll try and update ASAP! REVIEW!**


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